


Still Jack and Daniel - The 2nd Year - XVII Bruised

by Annejackdanny



Series: Still Jack and Daniel Series 2 - No Yellow Brick Road/Ghosts of the Past [17]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, Kid Fic, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 07:14:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annejackdanny/pseuds/Annejackdanny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel and Al are facing the bullies, BD is facing Fergus and Jack is playing slave driver</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Jack and Daniel - The 2nd Year - XVII Bruised

**Author's Note:**

> This story deals with kids bullying and picks up on the events around Al's brother Bryan and his friends. Story contains a fight/violence between kids and deals with discipline issues. If this isn't your cup of tea, please skip this story. It won't take away from the overall story arch.

**Bruised**

**I**

Jack stepped out on his deck, carrying two small bottles of sparkling water and a glass of cranberry juice. Breathing in the crisp fall air, he tried to suppress the uneasy thought of how time seemed to fly by lately. The summer had gone by so fast. The trees had started shedding leaves, covering the lawn under soft dots of red, brown and yellow. Halloween had come and gone last weekend – Daniel had refused to go trick or treating with Al, but had lots of fun handing out candy to the kids knocking at their door. And it was definitely getting chilly. However, bundled up in warm clothes it was still warm enough to sit on the deck as long as the sun was out.

The noises of the ongoing battle drifted over to him; yells and barked out commands. It was getting too cold to continue doing this out here. They'd have to find an inside place soon. Jack didn't fancy the kids doing this in his living room. Maybe if they'd clean out the junk and treasure room in the basement... 

Oy. The boys would have to help there. But it was about time they found a new location.

Jack looked on as Daniel told Al to come at him again and again. The other kid, bearing a determined expression on his pale face, did his best to knock Daniel on the mat. He was getting better. At least he didn't flinch anymore every time Daniel blocked him. And from time to time he was bold enough to attack and succeed. Clumsy, yes. But there was progress.

Jack took the kids running at Memorial Park on the weekends because Al wanted to become faster, too. They were taking it slow, but the kid was very determined all of a sudden. 

“They'll break each others neck and I'll get sued for it,” he muttered as he handed the juice to Teal'c.

Granted, Al's mom had agreed to this, after all. Be it because Doc Svenson had talked her into it or because Al really wanted to do this, Jack didn't know. 

Daniel had Al on the mat now. “Oh, Al,” he chided, “you should have seen that coming.”

“I did! I just wasn't fast enough!”

“You have to try harder!” Daniel released him. “Let's try again.”

Jack watched as Al scrambled to his feet. “I'm all outta breath.”

“One more time. Come on.” Without warning Daniel attacked again and Al simply jumped out of his way. Daniel rolled over his shoulder and was back on his feet. “Al!”

“Sorry.” Al giggled and Daniel sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with a small fingerless-gloved hand. 

“Again.”

“But, Daniel... “

“Pay attention.”

“Okay.”

And on it went. 

“Daniel is a good teacher,” Teal'c observed. Somewhere down the line T had stopped calling Daniel 'DanielJacksonO'Neill'. Jack still thought it was odd to just hear him say 'Daniel'.

“I think he's pushing a bit hard.” 

“Patience has never been one of his greatest strengths,” Teal'c replied. “Do you wish to step in, O'Neill?”

“Nah. Al probably needs a bit of pushing.” Hell, Jack had been known to be a real hard ass on his recruits in training. But that was just the point – this wasn't recruit training. And Daniel wasn't Jack. Jack wasn't used to seeing Daniel this determined and unyielding when it came to hand-to-hand combat lessons. 

Hell, Daniel used to HATE any combat lessons. And even when he had gotten used to Teal'c train him, he'd kept complaining and whining about them. 

Not anymore. 

Not only did Daniel push Al; he seemed to take his own lessons to new heights recently. Like he was preparing for something... and Jack couldn't shake the feeling their borrowed time of peace and semi happy childhood days would come to an end rather sooner than later. 

Maybe he was imagining this, but the kid seemed to be shaping up for something. Daniel himself didn't have an explanation for it, other than being 'restless' lately. 

Not that Jack would ever allow Daniel to engage into physical battle with Anubis or his Jaffa if he had any say in it. And Daniel didn't kid himself into believing he had a chance against the head snake and his army if it came down to it. Yet, he was taking his training a lot more seriously than he used to. Maybe it helped him to get mentally ready, too. There hadn't been any new visions or zone-out moments lately, but something was in the air. 

Something Jack didn't like one bit. 

Just recently his kid had started to work with the wooden training staff Teal'c had given him for his birthday - last year. He had avoided having to work with it all this time, until a couple of weeks ago. Teal'c taught him how to use it in stick fighting and the munchkin had developed a pretty strong blow. Jack had practiced with him for fun a couple of times and was pretty impressed. What Daniel didn't have in bodily strength he learned to make up by fast reflexes and quick moves. 

“Good! Try this move again, Al,” Daniel's light voice ordered and Al lunged for him, actually seeing through Daniel's defense tactic. He ducked and rammed his head into Daniel's belly and they went both down.

The boys jumped back to their feet, high-fiving each other with jubilant whoops.

Jack had no clue what had finally triggered Al's need to learn self defense techniques. It seemed Al's brother had backed off once the Millers had been in therapy for a while, and Al hadn't been interested in Daniel's plans to teach him how to defend himself. For some reason that was different now. Jack had noticed there was a subtle change in the boy himself. He appeared a bit subdued, less hyper. 

That, and Al seemed to spend more and more time over here the last couple of weeks. Not that Jack minded him coming over. The boys got along swell and had learned to work around their differences in interests. But he started to feel as though he had two kids from time to time. When they weren't running in Memorial Park Al came along to play with the train set on the weekends. All through September and October he seemed to show up almost every weekend and at least once or twice during the week. 

Jack had asked Daniel what was up with Al being so clingy. Daniel said he'd promised Al not to tell anyone. Jack had prodded and interrogated a little and Daniel had admitted that Al thought Mitch and Bryan were stalking him somehow even though he'd never caught them doing it. According to Daniel Al had told his mom and Svenson, but was still worried. 

Jack figured it couldn't hurt to support the kids in their goal to give Al some confidence. Maybe Al was just a bit skittish, didn't trust the cease fire. It had been months since the Millers started to see Svenson. Weeks now since Al had started training. Nothing had happened. 

Done with today's work out the boys came running to the deck, both with ruffled hair and red faced. 

“I could drink a whole bucket of water!” Al opened his water and glugged it down, then started to cough and wheeze. 

“Stop doing that,” Daniel scolded with a roll of his eyes. “You're drinking it too fast, you choke on it every time.”

“Colonel O'Neill, did you see me? I got Daniel off his feet!” Al ignored his friend's nagging and beamed up at Jack. 

Jack gave Al the thumb's up. “I saw you, kiddo. You did good.”

Daniel slumped in the deck chair next to Teal'c and took his glasses from the table. Pushing them onto his nose he grinned, “Yeah, it was great.” He opened his own bottle and sipped from it.

“It was a good lesson,” Teal'c agreed, causing Al to blush. 

Al had been scared to death by Teal'c at first and wouldn't or couldn't move a muscle when the big guy was around. In the end Teal'c had told Daniel how to train Al which worked much better. T. and Jack would sit on the deck and watch – and only step in if Daniel was overdoing it a bit. 

“Thank you, Murray.”

T. inclined his head and Al returned the gesture almost solemnly. His intimidation had slowly but steadily turned into some kind of shy worshiping. 

Biting back a smile, Jack shooed the boys off to roll up the mat and carry it inside. He also wanted them to get out of their training clothes which were sweaty and damp. He didn't want them to catch a cold and have Al's mom breathing down his neck because her little boy got sick. 

Daniel and Al took the mat into the house and Jack called after them to pick from their selection of frozen Pizza and turn on the oven. 

“You sure you don't want to stay for dinner, _Murray_?” Jack asked with a smirk.

“I cannot. DanielJackson and Fergus invited me to watch Indiana Jones movies.”

“A movie night. Nice.” He vowed to ignore the faint sting of rejection at not being invited. It was pathetic; he wouldn't have gone anyway with Fergus hanging out there. Jack and Jackson were treading carefully around each other. It had been a while since they had spent quality time together – aside from the team gatherings over at Carter's place where the train set was. Yet, he had to ask. “Carter coming, too?” 

“I do not know if she was invited. But MajorCarter is not available. PeteShanhan is back in town,” Teal'c said. 

“Ah. Yeah, she mentioned something like that.” Carter had told them Pete was waiting for a permanent transfer to the Springs. She seemed a bit torn between being happy and anxious, but Jack was confident they'd end up staying together for good. At least he hoped they were. Pete seemed like a nice enough guy and he was totally head over heels for Carter. 

The last bit of news he heard was that they attempted to go house hunting.

Teal'c emptied his juice and rose from his chair. “I will see you tomorrow, O'Neill.”

“Yeah, have fun.” He followed the big guy inside where he said goodbye to the boys. Al and Daniel were in the kitchen, shoving the pizza into the oven and setting the timer. 

Jack saw Teal'c to the door and watched as the Jaffa squeezed his giant stature into a black Sedan from the base's motor pool. Teal'c didn't have his own car, but somewhere down the line he had gotten a license and when he needed a vehicle, the SGC provided him with one. 

With a last honk of the horn he steered out of the driveway and was gone. 

_There he goes,_ Jack thought with a suppressed sigh. Carter was having fun with Pete, Teal'c was going to have a movie night with Jackson and Highlander guy. 

Jack had frozen pizza, beer and the kids to entertain him. Oh, there was the dog, too. Peachy.

He scowled at his own self pity. Usually he didn't mind pizza and beer or the kids. Maybe he needed to get out more often though. He'd coax Jackson into taking Daniel for a night and ask Teal'c if he was up for some jell-o wrestling this weekend. Then he remembered Teal'c telling him he'd go off world to see Ish'ta this weekend.

Maybe next weekend then. 

At least he could watch the Simpsons until the pizza was ready. The boys had retreated to Daniel's room, so it was just Jack and the dog on the couch when little Maggie shot Mister Burns on the TV screen.

They had dinner in the kitchen. After the kids re-lived and analyzed today's lesson in every detail, Al prattled on about some super-cool, super-rare X-Men comic he wanted real bad. A collector's edition that would be available as a small number of re-prints for only a very short time. Jack saw Daniel's eyes glazing over and had to bite back a grin. 

_Serves you right for making me sit through all your medieval history lectures, kiddo_ , he thought amused.

Then Al talked about his new school. He had switched after summer so he wouldn't have to be exposed to Bryan and his friends all day. He liked his classes and his teachers and the other kids were leaving him alone. Daniel showed interest in Al's current history project and they chatted about ways to build a western fortress from wood and clay. 

“It needs many buildings and stuff,” Al moaned. “I looked it up on the internet and found some floor plans and instructions, but I'm bad at crafting things. I like doing stuff at the computer or puzzles that have a pattern to follow. But this fort we have to build from scratch.”

“Jack can help,” Daniel offered. “He knows how to build whole villages for train sets. We could do it together.”

Al turned huge green eyes on Jack. “That would be so cool. It doesn't have to be that big, but it needs all the stables, houses and supply buildings. We need craft sticks, hot glue and clay. And do you have a hot glue gun? Oh, and I need miniature flags.”

“We could get little horses and toy soldiers,” Daniel offered.

“When do you need it?” Jack asked before he realized he was probably signing himself up to a huge project.

“I have three weeks to finish it. I can ask mom to order everything online and bring it over when I got it,” Al said. 

Jack picked up the last slice of his pizza and gave Al a thoughtful look. “Why don't you ask your dad if he wants to put this together with you? Maybe he'd like the idea.”

If he started working on school projects with Al, he'd probably soon be offering the kid to live here or something. 

Al and Daniel exchanged a glance across the table. “Um, my dad is so busy, he won't have time for this,” Al mumbled.

“At least ask him. You might be surprised,” Jack said. 

Al squinted up at him, a doubtful look in his eyes. “Yes, sir, but I don't think so.”

Daniel looked pinched as he pushed away his empty plate. But at least he held back with his opinion about Al's parents. He started to clear the table and put the plates into the dishwasher while Al grabbed for his backpack and jacket. “Thank you for dinner, Colonel.” 

“You're welcome. Don't forget to switch on your light.”

Al grinned. “I won't. Thanks for fixing it.” 

It was getting dark early and when Jack had found out the light on Al's bike was broken last week he had fixed it. The kid lived only two streets away, but Jack felt better knowing Al could see and would be seen on his way home. 

_Just one more thing his dad should be doing, not me,_ he thought with a sudden wave of pity for Daniel's friend. He handed Al his helmet and didn't object when Daniel called after him, “See you Saturday!”

Thirty minutes later Jack was back on his couch watching a weird sci-fi movie called Sumuru, a freshly showered Daniel next to him. They shared a bag of Jalapeno chips and tried to ignore Flyboy's begging eyes. 

Daniel broke down first. “Just a few?” he asked.

“Jalapeno. He'll get sick,” Jack warned.

“I know.” Daniel gave Flyboy a sympathetic gaze. “I'll get him a chewing bone.” He jumped up and left.

Jack rescued the chips bag before the dog got any ideas and snatched it from the coffee table. Then he turned his attention back to the movie and found himself staring at the guy on the screen.

 _Damn,_ he thought, _I'm losing it._ He blinked and looked again. But nothing changed. That guy looked just like Jackson. Granted, there was a stupid beard... but still. Kind of creepy. Kind of sexy, too. Lots of nice tanned skin, biceps, a sweat soaked shirt and tight pants... 

He shook his head. He was so not going to start drooling over some actor just because he resembled adult Daniel. 

Little Daniel returned with a small chewing bone. Flyboy took it and scampered off to lie down by the fireplace. 

“Are you going to help Al with the fortress?” Daniel asked out of the blue when the commercials came up. “His dad won't do it.”

“Daniel, we've been through this. Just because he's working a lot doesn't mean he doesn't want to do stuff with his kids.”

“He's not trying real hard,” Daniel said, giving him a stubborn look.

“You don't know that.”

“He's never there.”

“Yeah, well, Al is never there either, isn't he? He's mostly hanging out here.”

Daniel shrugged. “His parents aren't home and Bryan always has this moron over. Mitch.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I thought Bryan wasn't supposed to bring Mitch home with him anymore?” Al had told them shortly after the Millers had started therapy. He'd been very relieved about it.

“No one is there to keep him from bringing Mitch home,” Daniel said matter of fact. “At least that other guy who used to hang out with them moved away and won't bother him anymore.” 

“Oh, for crying out loud.” 

“Told you, they're a total failure,” Daniel said. He sounded almost triumphant.

“And you're sharing your humble opinion with Al? Letting him know what a total failure his parents are in your eyes?” 

Daniel frowned. “No. I mean, not like that. I might have, maybe, uh... said something occasionally. But not in so many... words.”

“I told you to stop pushing it. You don't like them, that's a given. Hey, “I” don't like them. But they are Al's parents and they're getting help. This takes time. Leave it alone,” Jack warned. 

“I'm not pushing it. And it's not necessary either. Al figured it out all by himself.”

Jack took the TV remote and turned down the volume, sneaking in another glimpse at wannabe-Jackson. “What do you mean?”

Daniel bit his bottom lip and looked over to the fireplace where Flyboy was torturing his chewing bone. “I promised Al not to say anything.”

“Why?”

“Because he's not sure yet.”

“About what?”

“About his dad.”

“About his dad...?”

Daniel sighed and turned around to look at Jack. “Al thinks his dad left them. He hasn't been home in four weeks. His mom says he's on a business trip, but Al doesn't believe her.”

Jack shook his head. “Maybe he is. He's gone on trips before.”

“Yeah, but his mom won't tell him where he went this time. And he didn't call. Al thinks it's his fault. Bryan thinks so, too. His dad hated doing therapy.”

“He just left?”

“I guess.” Daniel looked uncomfortable. “I know Al is over here a lot lately. I'm sorry if it bothers you. It's just that... Jack, he's so sad. And he really... he kind of... he likes you.”

Jack didn't know what to say. He didn't think it was his mission to solve the Millers' problems, but if all he had to contribute was being a little supportive to Daniel's friend, he could live with that. 

He suppressed a sigh. “I'll look into this fort thing.”

“Thanks.” Daniel relaxed and snuggled back into their shared blanket next to Jack. Then he suddenly sat up again. “Hey, Jack? Don't you think the guy in the movie looks just like BD?”

Well, d'oh. 

***

Daniel let out a content little sigh as he surrendered completely to the strong hands massaging his back. It was a nice way to end the day. He'd spent all morning crouched in a tunnel trying to decipher barely readable passages of text, his flashlight the only illumination. There were fading bruises on his ribcage and a stiffness in his neck from a mission gone awry two weeks ago, so his body hadn't been happy about having to squeeze into that tunnel at all. Covered in grime and red brick dust he had emerged from it after four hours of alternately staring at the wall and scribbling into his journal. They had come up empty handed. There was no evidence of hidden technology anywhere on that wall. Not Ancient or otherwise. 

The writings had turned out to be a map of the ruin complex, but most of it was buried under layers of rubble, rocks and dirt. And not even Daniel had been keen on crawling further into that dark dingy tunnel to see if it led anywhere. 

Though a small curious part in him wondered if he should have done it anyway. 

Then he'd spent the afternoon in the archeological library with LD translating writings from a very old book SG-3 had discovered on another planet. They had come to the conclusion it was some kind of holy book not unlike the bible. Lots of stories about sins, gods and holy men who lived in exile for one reason or another. By the time they had put the book away Daniel had developed some more kinks in his neck and shoulders. 

He'd almost fallen asleep during the movie night with Teal'c which was probably partly due to the red wine he'd had for dinner. 

Fergus rubbed more oil into his taut muscles and the scent of sandalwood grew stronger as it merged with his skin. 

Daniel gazed at the flickering flame of the thick candle on his nightstand and closed his eyes. He bit his lip as Fergus worked out a particular hard knot somewhere close to his left shoulder. 

“Yer a piece o' hard work,” the Scot muttered.

“Hmmm.” 

“Do nae fall asleep on me, ye hear?” There was a chuckle and the tickling of Fergus's beard as he kissed a trail down Daniel's neck and spine. 

“Oh, come on,” Daniel moaned, “I'm totally beat.” But he couldn't deny the spark of interest Fergus's lips ignited in his lower regions.

The lips stilled somewhere close to his ass. “A day at the office can nae be that exhausting. I spent all day in the yard getting it ready fer winter. And ye tellin' me yer beat? 

Daniel stretched and wriggled his hips until Fergus sat up again and continued the much wanted massage. “Was an extremely stressful day,” he muttered.

Fergus didn't reply, but his hands dug into Daniel's muscles with more force, causing him to groan. “Sorry,” came the somewhat cross response and the massage returned to being pleasant rather than painful. 

“Fergus,” Daniel said calmly. He didn't want to have this discussion again. He wanted to relax, maybe make love later. Then sleep. But he knew the chances of him getting any more than the massage tonight were dwindling down as the silence continued. 

“I know ye can nae tell me about what yer doin'. But that does nae mean ye have tae take me fer a fool.”

“I don't,” Daniel said tiredly. “Why would I do that?”

“Stressful day at the office,” Fergus snorted. 

“Well, yeah, sorta.”

“I do nae know what yer doin' fer the military, but yer nae office type, that's fer sure.”

“I know. And you know I can't... “

Fergus sighed. “Yeh, I know. Sorry. It's a wee bit frustrating at times.” 

He picked up the massage once more, but Daniel had lost his momentum. He rolled over on his back and gazed at the dark ceiling, then his eyes searched Fergus's in the semi darkness of the room. “I would tell you,” he said quietly.

“I know. It would nae bug me that much. But when ye come home bruised ye can nae blame me fer bein' worried,” Fergus said, voice gruff. 

“I don't blame you,” Daniel said quietly. Two weeks ago they'd been ambushed by a bunch of unfriendly natives and he'd taken a few nasty blows. He hadn't been able to hide it from his lover since his ribs had turned a lovely shade of blue and purple. So he had made up a story about taking a couple hits in the gym during sparing. The alternative would have been to not see Fergus for several weeks and that would have had lead to questions as well. 

However, in the almost four months of their relationship it hadn't been the first time Daniel had come home with minor injuries. It had just never been this evident. Fergus didn't buy the gym story. He tried not to ask too many questions, but Daniel knew it was bugging him and there was a certain underlying strain in their relationship. He couldn't change that. He could only hope it would dissolve on its own because he couldn't give Fergus the answers he wanted. 

“Even yer military guy was worried,” the Scot muttered.

“Yesss, he was.” 

Jack had called twice on their free weekend after that mission. Fergus had been there and listened to Daniel's repeated attempts to keep Jack from coming over to mother hen him. Fergus had issues about Jack calling him? He should have seen Jack hovering in the infirmary while Janet had patched up SG-1. They'd all gotten bruises and Jack had been in the doc's way as he'd made sure his kids were okay. Like they had never been beaten up before. Daniel assumed it was harder now that Jack didn't go with them anymore.

“I dinae complain. He's yer friend, he should be worried,” Fergus said, his voice softening. “But ye can nae blame me fer bein' worried, too.” 

“I don't.” He reached out and pulled Fergus's head down to kiss him. He was really too tired to continue this conversation. 

They kissed and necked for a while, but the mood was gone and Daniel's aching bones were getting heavy. They ended up wrapped into each other's arms. Fergus's beard tickled Daniel's cheek, but it wasn't uncomfortable. 

“I need tae talk tae ye,” the Scot said in the ongoing silence.

“Tomorrow?” Daniel asked hopefully. 

There was a pause, then a nod. “Okay, yeah, tomorrow. Let's have dinner?” Fergus blew out the candle. 

“Sure. You'll cook?”

“Aye. Ye'll be surprised. I've got big news.”

Somehow Daniel felt the foreshadowing of something bad as he tried to get comfortable again. “What kind of big news?” he couldn't resist asking.

“Tomorrow. Sleep tight.” They spooned up and a moment later Fergus started snoring softly. Daniel always envied his lover for being able to fall asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. 

He continued to stare at the ceiling. Ten minutes ago he had been ready to crash and sleep for hours. Now sleep wouldn't come. He was wide awake.

He pushed off the blankets and silently slipped out of bed, careful not to wake his lover. He padded out into the living room. The light of a full moon poured in through the closed French doors, illuminating everything in a ghostly silver light. 

The Indy DVDs were still on the coffee table next to the empty wine glasses and pizza boxes. Daniel considered tidying up and decided he could do that in the morning. He stood by the doors and looked out into his yard. There was a slight reflection of his naked body in the glass and he shivered a little in the cooled off room. But he wasn't cold enough to bother getting a blanket or a bathrobe yet. 

His mind wanted to analyze the question what Fergus wanted to talk to him about. Again, Daniel felt uneasy and the hairs on the back of his neck were rising. 

_You don't know what it is. Maybe it's nothing_ , he thought annoyed by his worries. 

But it had sounded serious. 

Big News. 

_What if he wants to move in with me?_ For some reason the thought wasn't welcomed. They were spending a lot of time together lately. Good time. Yet, he shied away from the thought of actually living with Fergus. 

_What's wrong with that,_ he thought. _What's wrong with living together?_ He caught himself counting... they had been together since July. Almost four months. Too early to talk living arrangements. Too early for Daniel anyway. He just wasn't there yet. 

He stepped away from the door and grabbed the afghan from the couch, pulling it around himself like a tunic as he walked into his office and opened his laptop to check e-mails. 

There was one from Jack, sent earlier this evening. Curious, he opened it and found a picture attached of some guy who looked vaguely familiar. The pic had “Sumuru” written on it. Frowning, he read the e-mail. 

_We saw you on TV tonight. Should have told us you went to Hollywood and became famous. We want your autograph tomorrow._

_J. and LD_

He looked at the picture again and found the resemblance amusing. He clicked 'reply' and wrote back:

_I'll try to squeeze you into my schedule. No personal signatures though, I'm a busy man. I'll charge you a hundred bucks for each signed picture._

_Indiana Jackson, the Famous._

He smiled as he sent it off, wondering if Jack was still up. 

Still feeling restless Daniel opened an article about the Mayas he had downloaded some time ago. It was yet another crystal skull discovery, probably a faked one. But after their adventure in Honduras he had started to read these articles about crystal skulls with new interest, wondering if there were more of them hidden in other temples. 

He had read halfway through the text, when his e-mail program jingled. Grinning to himself he opened the new mail. 

_A hundred bucks, eh? The movie wasn't that good. Doesn't hold a candle to Indy. Did T eat all your popcorn?_

_J._

Daniel smirked and replied:

_He ate all the popcorn and said he prefers Star Wars over Indy. You know how much he loves space battles. What are you doing at your computer at..._

Daniel checked the time and raised his eyebrows.

… _1:00?_

He hit send and waited. Jack wasn't usually big into writing e-mails or spending more time at his computer than absolutely necessary. Apparently tonight was an exception. It didn't take long for Jack to reply. 

_Couldn't sleep, nothing good on TV. Had some paperwork to finish. What's your excuse?_

_Funny_ , Daniel thought. Maybe it was the full moon or something.

 _Same here,_ he wrote back. _What kind of paperwork?_

This time it took a while for Jack to answer. Daniel had reached the end of his Maya article when his inbox window popped up again with the 'you've got mail' jingle.

_The boring kind. Being Hammond's 2IC sometimes sucks. You free for BBQ this weekend? I've got huge steaks. The kid's making potato salad. Say yes or I'll have to join the MS fan club._

Daniel tried to make sense of that last bit.

_Who's MS and why would you want to join his fan club?_

Jack's reply popped up five minutes later.

_The guy from the movie. It's creepy, he looks just like you. You coming?_

Daniel stifled a chuckle.

He didn't have a mission coming up this weekend and he didn't have specific plans with Fergus. He tried to remember when he'd been over at Jack's place the last time. They had met at Sam's house twice for some fun with the train set, but other than that he'd hardly seen Jack and the kid outside of work. SG-1 went off world a lot and Daniel spent a lot of his free time with Fergus. 

He wrote and sent his answer before he could change his mind again.

_Sure. Want me to bring something?_

He waited for the reply and hopped on to Amazon in the meantime to look for some interesting books until Jack wrote back to him.

_Bring the beer – wine, too, if you like. And go to bed._

Daniel couldn't help but grin at that. He told Jack to do the same and shut off his computer. The slight anxiousness gone, he went back into the bedroom and slipped under the covers, welcoming the warm body to snuggle against. 

**II**

“It's just across this road, around the next corner and down that street a couple of blocks.” Al sighed.

“You going for it?” Daniel looked back over his shoulder. Of course there was no one there. It was just the childish reaction to the knowledge they were – maybe – about to break the rules. Like Jack would jump out from behind a tree and yell 'Busted' any minute.

“Dunno.” Al chewed his gum as though his life depended on it. “No one would know, right? And it'd just be this once.”

“There are traffic lights. It's safe,” Daniel said thoughtfully. He was torn between feeling ridiculous about not being allowed to cross this particular road and this annoying niggling voice reminding him those rules had been established for a reason. It was a big road, four lanes and pretty busy. They weren't supposed to ride their bikes anywhere near downtown or the industrial area and the road they were about to cross was the invisible border of their perimeter, where their neighborhood ended and – insert drum roll - unknown territory began. Well, semi unknown. Daniel had passed by in Jack's truck here countless times, but that wasn't the same as crossing it by bike.

Daniel wasn't exactly sure where they'd end up once they crossed this road. He didn't get around the Springs much, especially not now that he was little. There was an industrial area somewhere north of here... downtown was straight ahead of them. But he wasn't supposed to go anywhere outside their neighborhood, period, and neither was Al.

But there were traffic lights for passengers. And they wouldn't really go downtown. Just... close. 

“How badly do you want that comic?” Daniel asked. 

“Are you kidding? It's a collector's edition. It'll cost me all my allowance from last month and this month, but it's SO worth it,” Al said with a longing sigh. “And Ed's going to be the one who has it. My mom would drive me there next weekend, but she's probably too busy cleaning the house and working from home. And after that it'll be gone.”

Daniel mounted his bike and started riding down the street. “Come on. We have to hurry if we want to be home in time for the BBQ.” He'd been looking forward to it all week. BD would come over. Daniel had made his famous potato salad this morning. If he was late Jack would be cranky and ask uncomfortable question, which might lead to ruin a very nice evening.

“Are you sure? We'll be in real trouble if we get caught.” But Al followed him anyway.

 _No,_ Daniel thought a little resentful, _I'll be in trouble. Your mom will just nag at you and let it go. A_ loud he said, “We won't get caught. We just can't make a habit of it.” He stomped on the flicker of guilt and took lead again.

They crossed the road with several people, some on bikes, some on foot, and ended up safe and sound on the other side. Al led the way around the next corner and down that street, which turned out to be a very long street. Busy, too, but with wide almost empty sidewalks they could ride on. Yet, it took them almost twenty minutes until they reached Ed's Comics and Cards. 

They locked their bikes and went inside. With a critical glance at his watch, Daniel said, “Hurry up, okay? We don't have time to look around.” 

Al snorted. “You sound like my dad.”

“Great,” Daniel groaned. He didn't take that as a compliment. “Just hurry. I don't want to be late.” 

Al zeroed in on the counter and started talking to the young guy standing behind it. Daniel spotted a whole shelf of Simpson comics as he was waiting. Maybe he'd tell Jack about this store. Then again, maybe not. After all, he wasn't supposed to be here.

He checked his watch and tried not to be anxious. Still time. No reason to be tense. But Daniel felt tensed a lot lately. It wasn't just the current situation and slight case of bad conscience. It happened without warning. He would be perfectly fine one minute, working or doing something else – and suddenly he got twitchy and agitated for no apparent reason. Not angry or really anxious... just restless. Like he had little time to get things done and didn't know why. Like he had to hurry with everything … like time was running out and he wasn't prepared. He had trouble concentrating on his work then or sitting still. It was a bit like having 'ants in his pants'.

His lessons with Teal'c helped. Or working out in the gym. Riding his bike real fast was good, too, or playing rough with the dog. Moving in general helped – and it went away eventually. Sometimes it only lasted for a couple of minutes, sometimes longer like an hour or so. 

“I got it. Oh my, Daniel, I got it,” Al shouted as he came running back, waving some highly valued X-Men comic into his face. “This is it. The ultimate coolness.”

“Cool,” Daniel said. He didn't share Al's love for comics. That was more Jack's thing. But he was happy for his friend. Al didn't have much reason to laugh lately and if he got such a kick out of his beloved X-Men comic – who was Daniel to argue? 

He cringed a little. After the cave disaster back in August he'd had the best intentions not to give in to any urge to wander off again unless his life depended on it. And here he was. But it was, after all, for a good cause, right? And he'd been pretty good about the bike rules all the time. He didn't stray, he minded his curfew... 

It was just this once. 

Al put X-Men into the paper bag with as much care as Daniel would handle precious artifacts. “We have to hide it at your tree house before we go in. Do you think that'll work?”

“Sure, why not? Come on, let's go.”

The boys hopped on their bikes and rode back the way they had come.

They were waiting for them at the next block. Daniel didn't even recognize them at first because he wasn't paying attention. Just two kids on bikes being in their way. Only when Al sucked in his breath and jumped on his brake did Daniel realize what was going on.

They were still far enough away to turn and run.

“Hey, four eyes,” Mitch yelled. “Why don't you come over so I can rearrange your face?” 

“They must have followed us,” Al whispered. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Daniel said, indecisive. Fight or Flight? 

Mitch and Bryan mounted their bikes and rode towards them. 

“Run,” Al squeaked, turned his bike and dashed off as fast as possible.

“Coward,” Bryan shouted. “He's such a loser. What about you? Your dog isn't here to defend you now.” 

“We'll sort this out,” Daniel replied coldly. “Once and for all. Another time.” With that he spun around to follow his friend, Bryan and Mitch's laughter ringing in his ears. Suddenly he was mad. Really mad. He felt itchy again and ready to just jump off his bike and let them come.

 _Not here_ , he thought, _not this far away from home._

He met Al back at the comic shop. “I... I was going for help,” the other boy said, blushing a dark red. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run.”

But Daniel didn't have time to come up with a diplomatic reply to that. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Mitch and Bryan approaching - fast. 

“Get on your bike,” he hissed.

“We should go in there... “

“And then what? Ask him to call the police? I can just call Jack then and get my head bitten off.” That would just be the thing. Jack coming out here to pick them up and rip him a new one because they had strayed from their neighborhood. 

Al looked stricken. “What are we gonna do?”

“Get on your bike. Now!” Daniel didn't wait for Al to comply. He jumped on his Schwinn and turned left. They had to get back to the big road. There were people and cars. Mitch and Bryan wouldn't dare to attack them there. He didn't think any further than that, he just rode like the devil. Once they were back in their own neighborhood they'd find a way to get rid of them.

 _You can't keep running forever_ , a nagging voice in the back of his mind said. _What are you? A baby? You can take them both on if you really want to._

Gritting his teeth, Daniel dared another look back and was relieved to find Al keeping pace with him. But Mitch and Bryan were getting closer. 

They turned left again. Daniel hoped they'd get back to the road, just a block further away from where they had crossed it. But only minutes later he had to change directions again because a construction area was blocking their way. He couldn't turn back, he could only turn right. 

They raced through a small park. Why weren't there any people around? Where was everyone? They left the park behind and Daniel had lost orientation. Where were they? 

“Hurry, hurry,” Al panted behind him. “They're close!”

They zipped down the street, waiting for the next opportunity to turn left again, but there were only high fences and buildings. They had ended up in the industrial area. 

At the next opportunity they turned right. For the moment Mitch and Bryan weren't in sight. When Daniel spotted an open gate he didn't think twice and rode through it. They were definitely lost. Maybe he'd find the way back to familiar ground if they could hide here until the other boys had passed... 

They hobbled over uneven pavement.

 _We need to get out of the street's view_ , Daniel thought and led Al behind an old brick building, probably a former factory or garage. They dismounted and pushed their bikes through another open gate inside. Leaning their bikes against the wall they peered out of one of the pane-less windows. 

They had crossed a wide deserted courtyard. Weeds and grass were growing in the cracks of the pavement. There were two wrecked cars to the left and a lot of rusty tools and wires in a heap to their right. 

“Can you see them?” Al whispered, his breath still coming in pants and huffs. 

Daniel fished for his phone in his jacket. He wasn't sure, yet, if he'd call Jack or find a street map to get them out of here first. The net connection on his phone was wonky though and... 

A movement outside made him freeze. “There. Duck!” 

Mitch and Bryan were standing in the open gate by the sidewalk, glancing into the courtyard. They were probably trying to decide whether Al and Daniel had gone further down the street or not. 

When they looked out the window again a moment later, the two teens were gone. 

Al sighed. “That was close.”

“We should stay here a moment to make sure they won't come back.” 

Al nodded. Then he slid down the wall and leaned against it. “Bry is right, you know. I'm a coward. Always have been.”

“He's been terrorizing you for years. You're scared,” Daniel said. 

“I still suck at this.” Al wiped a hand across his face. “He's always been stronger.”

“And you're smarter.”

“Yeah, and that's good for nothing.”

“You're not so weak anymore,” Daniel pointed out. “You're getting better.”

“You and the colonel say I need to stop being scared. But I can't. And as long as I'm scared I can't fight him,” Al said, his voice low and timid. 

Daniel peered out the window again and caught sight of Bryan kicking one of the wrecked cars. Mitch was no where in sight. “They're still here,” he whispered. “We have to...“

His phone beeped. Loudly. 

“Nonono... Damn!” He hit a button to stop the noise. It was his 'getting late' alarm. He had ten minutes to get home now – that was his tolerance time for being late. If he was at Al's place or anywhere in the allowed parameters it wouldn't have been much of a problem. 

Now, however... 

“Did you hear that?” Bryan yelled. 

Mitch answered from somewhere. “What?”

“Don't know! Sounded like an alarm or something!”

Daniel pocketed his phone and took a look around the building they were in. There wasn't much light coming through the small high windows. In the semi darkness he could make out huge work counters, two car hoists and more metal trash. He spotted an open gate leading out on the other side. He motioned at Al to take his bike and together they made their way through the hall. 

They had almost made it, when something zipped by Daniel's head, only missing by inches. Whatever it was crashed against one of the car hoists with a loud metallic bang.

He ducked and jumped on his bike. Al was now ahead of him and did the same as more objects kept flying their way. Something hard hit Daniel's back and for a moment he thought he'd fall off his bike as hot pain shot up his spine. 

“Move,” he yelled, but Al was already on his way. 

They burst out of the building, pulled their bikes to the right... and came to a dead stop. Fences. High fences. No way to go.

“Daniel,” Al whimpered. “We're stuck.”

Daniel thought hard and fast. They could try climbing the fences … it'd probably mean Mitch and Bryan would take their anger out on their bikes. But he wasn't sure Al would manage the fence. However, he wasn't sure Al would manage to face Mitch and Bryan any better. 

What else was there to do? 

“We can't run,” Daniel decided flatly.

“But...“

“No. We climb the fence they'll wreck our bikes. And how do we get home without our bikes?”

 _Call Jack_ , his reasonable voice yelled at him. _Call Jack, now._ But he didn't move. It was too late. By the time Jack was here it would be over one way or another. And Daniel wasn't willing to give up his bike. He wasn't willing to run. 

How was he ever going to be brave enough to face Anubis if he couldn't even face two snotty punks? It didn't matter that there was no point in comparing Mitch and Bryan to a threat such as Anubis. What mattered was that Daniel was no coward and he wouldn't start acting like one now.

He'd show them. 

Al's face was as white as milk, his eyes huge green emeralds. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

“Stay behind me if you can; cover my back. Only attack one of them and only if you have to,” Daniel instructed as he removed his bike helmet. “We'll get through this, okay?”

Al nodded and took off his own helmet.

  
  


And that was all the strategy or pep talk they managed before Mitch and Bryan came bursting through the gate. They, too, stopped abruptly at the sight of Al and Daniel being trapped. 

“They're stuck,” Mitch bellowed with triumph. “The baby rats are stuck.”

“Leave us alone,” Daniel said sharply. “We can all walk away from here. Just go. We won't tell anyone you cornered us.” He had to try, at least, even though he knew it was pointless. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over his bike. 

“No, 'cause you'll be in trouble. Aren't you two a bit far from home?” Bryan asked with a nasty smirk. “I know Al isn't allowed to hang out around here and I bet you aren't either, tiny.”

“Mom won't notice,” Al said, his voice trembling. “We're not scared of you. Go away.”

Bryan laughed. “I see how not-scared you are, loser.”

“We didn't chase you all this way just to let you go now,” Mitch sneered. 

“If you have a go at us we're going to tell Colonel O'Neill,” Al screamed. “And Doctor Svenson. I won't let you bully me anymore.” 

Bryan looked indecisive for a moment, but Mitch spat at their feet. “I don't care whom you gonna tell. You gonna lose a couple baby teeth before you gonna tell anyone anything.”

“For the last time. Leave,” Daniel said. “Back off. Get lost. Hit the road.”

“Why don't _you_ try to get lost?” Bryan stepped forward, giving him a hard push. 

Daniel turned his shoulder in and slammed it against Bryan, getting him off balance for a second. But Al's brother was fast and back into his face immediately. He tried to punch Daniel's nose, but he jumped aside and stuck out a foot. Bryan stumbled over it and hit the ground hard. 

“Hey!” Mitch came like a steamroller, trying to run Daniel over with all his weight. He was a heavy set boy. Daniel grabbed Mitch's arm, pulled as hard as possible and used the boy's forward movement to propel him against the wire fence. Then he kicked Mitch's legs out from under him. Mitch was big, but Daniel knew the better tricks.

“Leave us alone,” he repeated coldly. But maybe that wasn't what he really wanted. Part of him was looking forward to give it to them and make them cry. Maybe part of him had waited for this all these months... 

“Yeah, right.” Mitch came to his knees. “I'm gonna break every bone in your scrawny body.”

Daniel pushed him back on his butt, but Mitch sprang to his feet and managed a well aimed kick at Daniel's right shin. He blinked away sudden tears of pain and blocked Mitch's flying fists with his arms, then moved forward and rammed his elbow into the other boy's chest. 

“The loser wants to actually fight us,” Bryan scoffed and Daniel was pulled away from Mitch by his hair. Going by the feeling of having the skin ripped off his skull he probably lost a lot of hair as he yanked himself free of Bryan's grip. 

“Hair pulling? You fight like a girl,” Daniel panted.

“Leave him alone,” Al screamed as Daniel avoided a kick from Bryan by whirling away to the right. 

“Shut up, loser,” Mitch snarled. 

Daniel immediately attacked again and punched Bryan's shoulder, then his arm. Al's brother stumbled backwards. Daniel followed him, and when Bryan jerked up his arms to protect his face he lunged for his middle. But before his fist could connect with Bryan's belly, two strong arms grabbed him from behind and pulled him away. 

A triumphant grin crossed Bryan's face. “Hold him, Mitch. I'll teach him to attack older kids.” 

Daniel kicked backwards and Mitch let out a yelp of pain as a sneaker connected with his leg. But his arms stayed clamped around Daniel's body. He wouldn't let go. Daniel kicked him again and one of Mitch's arms was gone, but only to wound around Daniel's throat, making him choke.

For the flash of a moment Daniel was thrown into the memory of Reese dragging him along like this before smacking him into the wall like a rag doll last year... He shook his head to break free from that visual. Mitch wasn't Reese. He was just an idiot. 

Bryan was now directly in front of him. “I'll make you say sorry, you little freak.”

He ripped Daniel's glasses off his nose. They gave a nasty crunching sound as Bryan stepped on them. Then his fist exploded somewhere under Daniel's right eye. Everything went blurry for a moment and Mitch's cheerful yell seemed to come from far away... 

Daniel swallowed and hissed, “That's heroic of you. Two against one. Who's the coward now?”

Al was standing by the fence, paralyzed. Daniel wished he'd at least try to take his bike and run.

Bryan's eyes narrowed. They were the same green as Al's, but there was so much anger in them. “He's right,” he blurted out. “Let him go, Mitch.”

“Oh, come on. I've got him right here. Give it to him,” Mitch scoffed. “And then we'll switch.” 

“Let him go. It's no fun like this,” Bryan snarled. “He wants to fight? Let him fight.” 

And then Al was suddenly on top of his brother. It wasn't a well aimed attack, but it worked anyway. Al pulled Bryan's hair and punched his back and clamped himself around Bryan's body as they went down in a tangled heap of arms, legs and dust.

Daniel gritted his teeth and threw back his head in a calculated move. There was a nasty bang and a wave of pain as his skull collided with Mitch's jaw. Mitch let out a pained wail and Daniel was free.

He spun around. 

Mitch was holding his jaw and tears were running down his pudgy face. Then he let out an incoherent yell and pounced. 

Daniel's phone started ringing, but no one paid any attention to it. 

***

Jack glared at his phone as his third call went out unanswered. He called the Miller's place next, on the off chance the boys were there and Daniel didn't bother to answer his phone. Though that was unlikely. Daniel knew better than not to answer his phone especially if he was already fifteen minutes late – not counting the tolerance time Jack was willing to give him on his curfew. 

No one answered the Miller's phone. Not even the voice mail. 

“Great,” Jack growled. Where did those brats go? Daniel had said something about riding to the small park near Vehr Street. The kids sometimes went there to hang out or get ice cream … but at this time of year there would be no ice cream van. 

Right now he was more annoyed than worried. He assumed the kids were having a good time somewhere and Daniel forgot to check his watch. On the other hand the Wretch had been pretty good about minding his curfew so far. And Jack remembered the kid had set an alarm to his phone to remind him when it was REALLY time to go home ASAP. Apparently Daniel's phone was either switched off or he hadn't heard it.

Jack called Al's phone; again the call went out unanswered.

He started pacing the living room as he tried to decide if it was panic time yet. A look at his watch a couple of minutes later still had him hesitate to call the mountain and track Daniel's implanted GPS device after just... twenty five minutes. If he did that and it turned out Daniel was happily hanging out with Al somewhere... 

And if someone had kidnapped him? What if Anubis had decided knowing about the damn prophecy wasn't enough? What if he had taken a vacation on lovely planet Earth to pay the chosen boy a visit and stick that memory device to his head... what if the reason for Daniel's restlessness had been some weird psycho foreshadowing of this? 

Jack decided it was almost-panic time. 

The loud knock at the front door made him jump and run for it. 

Jackson strode past him, carrying a six pack of Guinness under one arm and a bottle of Chardonnay under the other “I'm not too late, am I?” He dodged the cheerful dog and went straight into the kitchen.

Jack closed the front door and followed, phone still in hand.

“Daniel hasn't come home,” he blurted out; saying it out loud was somehow making it worse. An ice cold shiver ran down Jack's spine. He hadn't come home. Didn't call. Wasn't answering his phone. 

Jackson put the beer into the fridge. “What do you mean; he hasn't come home?”

“He's late,” Jack snapped.

Jackson closed the fridge and looked at him, his eyes narrowing. “How late?”

Jack checked. “Thirty now.”

“Maybe he just forgot the time. Is he out with Al?”

“Yeah, but he's not usually late. Not this late anyway.” Jack didn't make a fuss over five minutes. He wasn't _that_ paranoid. 

“Did you call...“

“Yes, I called. Three times, texted, called Al's phone, called the Miller's. Nada, zilch, nothing.” He grabbed his keys from the table. “I'm going to drive over to Vehr Street. They wanted to go there.” 

“Okay.” Jackson reached for a pen and one of the post-it notepads on the counter next to the fridge. “I'll write a note in case he comes home while we're gone.”

“Tell him to call.” Jack slipped into his leather jacket and pocketed his phone. 

Minutes later they were on the road. Jackson had taken his jeep. This way they could both drive around the neighborhood and stay in touch via phone. 

Jack hoped he'd find his kid doing something silly. Something that was too much fun to care about curfews. Daniel would be in trouble then, but it was much better than any alternatives he could think off. 

***

“Mitch, stop it! Stop it, that's not funny anymore!” Bryan's voice rang loudly in Daniel's ears. He was pressed against the brick wall, his eyes fixed on the shiny blade in front of his face. His swollen eye was leaking and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth was nauseating. Brought back lots of not so cozy memories from missions gone wrong.

But he was calm. He'd been threatened with knives three times as big, shot at with deadly weapons.

There was an ugly bruise developing on Mitch's swollen jaw where Daniel's head had hit. Mitch was _not_ happy. They had rolled across the rubble ground and Daniel'd had the upper hand for a while. He had managed to sit on top of Mitch and yelled at him to give up - until Bryan had been able to free himself of his outraged brother and attacked from behind. Daniel had been dragged away from Mitch, but he had managed to block all of Bryan's attempts to hit him, and he had dished out quite a few blows to Al's brother.

Al, who had been lying on the ground where Bryan had thrown him off, had scampered to his feet, taken a run at Mitch and kicked his butt. And when Mitch had tackled him and gotten him into a headlock, Al had somehow weaseled out of it and bitten Mitch's wrist. Mitch's comical expression as he'd stared in disbelief at the row of tooth prints on his skin had distracted Daniel long enough to laugh at him.

Big mistake.

Bryan had gotten him off his feet somehow and somewhere during the struggling and fighting Daniel's Swiss Army knife had fallen out of his jeans and Mitch had lunged for it. 

When Daniel had thrown Bryan off like a sack of potatoes Mitch had suddenly stabbed at him with the knife. And before Daniel could've kicked it out of the idiot's hand, Bryan had been back. He'd jumped Daniel and they had both gone down. Then Al had had the brilliant idea to throw himself at Bryan again and Daniel had felt like he was squashed underneath them until he'd been able to free himself. Mitch had yanked him up by his hair and slammed him against the brick wall. The air had been knocked out of Daniel's lungs and Mitch had used Daniel's pain fogged moment of disorientation to his advantage. 

And here they were with Daniel trapped against the wall and Mitch waving the knife into his face.

 _I'm sorry, Teal'c_ , Daniel thought with bitter self reproach. _I'm not making you proud._

“What are you creep runnin' round with a knife?” Mitch bellowed. 

“Be careful, you could cut yourself,” Daniel said icily. He was in pain. But most of all he was mad; a cold fury pumping adrenalin through his veins. 

“Gonna teach ya a lesson,” Mitch sneered and spat at him, a mixture of spit and blood hitting his face. Daniel didn't turn his head away, which only added fuel to Mitch's rage. “You're gonna pay. I'll make you pay for what your dad did!”

Daniel blinked in confusion. “My dad?”

But he didn't have time to wonder about it. Mitch took a step back and raised the knife. A tiny blade compared to any real combat knife Daniel had seen; but still a blade that could pierce and cut. Daniel didn't wait to find out what Mitch had in mind; whether he wanted to cut him a little here and there or just scare him.

He kicked hard, leaving a dirty imprint of his sneaker on Mitch's gray sweatshirt where his belly was.. Mitch howled and staggered backwards, but didn't let go of the knife. Daniel moved forward, snatched the older boy's wrist and twisted it until the knife fell to the ground. Mitch let out an outraged howl and did his steamroller thing again. Daniel sprang out of the way, slipped and fell. He threw himself out of Mitch's plowing line and got to his knees. 

“Back off,” he yelled. “Why won't you just back OFF?!”

Mitch changed course and came at him again. “I want one of your teeth!”

Daniel realized with horror that he'd been wrong. He couldn't take both of them on. Not like this, anyway. Not without making all of this a lot worse. They had to retreat, had to get out of this trap. 

He saw Al hovering close by, and yelled, “Run! RUN!” 

“Oh no, you're not goin' anywhere!” Mitch shouted. Then he suddenly doubled over, clutching his stomach as he threw up whatever he'd had for lunch. 

As they stumbled into the building Daniel's heart was racing and he wondered if he had hurt Mitch seriously when he'd kicked him? Suddenly all he wanted to do was call Jack to get them out of here... no matter how mad he was going to be... but Daniel's phone was in his jacket... his jacket was out there by his bike... 

He pulled Al behind one of the car hoists. 

“What are you doing?” Al cried, trying to keep his voice down.

“I... I need to know Mitch is okay,” Daniel choked out. Had he kicked him too hard? Had he thrown up blood? Daniel couldn't tell. He'd not really looked closely enough. 

“He's gonna kill you,” Al whimpered.

At that precise moment Mitch and Bryan entered the building. Al pressed himself against Daniel and together they sat in silence, hoping it was dark enough in here to fool the boys into believing they were gone.

“I'm gonna kill him,” Mitch howled, his light voice laced with pain and fury.

“Leave them alone,” Bryan pleaded. “We'll get in loads of trouble. And besides, we scared them off.”

“We'll get 'em!”

Al let out a whimper and Daniel closed his eyes in frustration.

“Found ya!” Mitch screamed. “Now I'll teach ya to try and fight me!”

But instead of coming to get them, Mitch moved further away. Daniel tugged at Al's arm. “C'mon. Let's try to dodge them.”

Al nodded. He was trembling, but he followed Daniel out of their cover. They had just started to move in the general direction of the exit, when a new shower of thrown items forced them to dive down again. Al yelped and fell to his knees when something hit the side of his head. Daniel bent over him and for the first time saw what they were using as ammo. Large rusty screw nuts. 

They ran as fast as possible, but Daniel was hit twice before they reached the exit. Mitch came after them, yelling curses; calling them names Daniel wouldn't even have considered appropriate when he'd been big. Not in English anyway.

That kid had totally lost it. Daniel guessed they were lucky Mitch didn't have his dog Buster with him. 

They needed to get out of here. Into the open. And they needed to call Jack. This was getting out of hand. Daniel swallowed. His throat was dry and his eye was throbbing. The last time he had hurt this badly was when he'd fallen into that ditch at Caves of the Winds. 

He made a mental note to never ever wander off again no matter how easy and safe it seemed to be. He'd learned that lesson now. Really, he did. Now if he could make Jack believe that, too, he'd probably survive the aftermath of this.

First they had to survive Mitch though. 

“Do you have your phone?” he asked Al when they stumbled outside.

“Wha...?”

“Phone. Jack.” Daniel coughed and grabbed Al's arm. He pulled him away from the building just when another salve of screw nuts was thrown their way. 

“No. Is in my... jacket,” Al panted. 

“Damn,” Daniel hissed with feeling. 

They went over to hide behind the wrecked cars. They were standing with their hoods close together and the boys squeezed and crawled through the small gap between them. There was another wire fence at their back. But they wouldn't have made it across the courtyard and back to the street like this. They needed to wait this out and somehow get back to their bikes and their phones. There was no chance in hell they'd made it anywhere by foot. Mitch was like a raving force. 

_He IS scared, though,_ Daniel thought without triumph. _Why doesn't he run? Why doesn't he leave us? Why is he so determined?_

There he was... 

Daniel felt the blood freeze in his veins when he realized what Mitch was holding in his hands as he crossed the courtyard.

An iron stick. He must have found it somewhere in the building. He came towards the cars and swung it like a baseball bat. Al started to crawl under the dodge.

Mitch was there now. He used the iron bar to beat the hood of the other car. “Where!” BANG! “Are” BANG! “You creeps!!!” BANG!

 _Maybe someone will hear the noise and come to check what's going on_ , Daniel thought as he ducked his head. If he'd had his training stick here... but he didn't. Usually at this point SG-1 would come to the rescue. But this wasn't a mission and there was no SG-1 ringing in to help. 

Help, however, came from an unexpected corner.

“Mitch! Stop it! Are you nuts!?” 

Daniel couldn't resist. He had to raise his head to see what was going on. Bryan showed up by the gate. He was holding something in his hand... he was... 

“He's calling someone,” Daniel whispered to Al. 

Bryan started talking very fast and shut the phone down. 

Mitch had turned around and saw it. “What are you doin'?” he snarled. 

“Calling his dad,” Bryan shouted back. “You're totally crazy, man. That's my stupid little brother. You can't just slug him with an iron stick! Why do you always have to lose it like that? It's like when you had to sic Buster on him for real. You never know when to stop!”

“They tried to slug us first!” Mitch yelled – and started walking towards Bryan, swinging the iron stick threateningly.

“Hey! Chill! Just drop it, okay?” Bryan took a couple steps backwards.

“You going to take sides with the rats?”

“No! But I'm not gonna risk being arrested because of them,” Bryan snarled. Daniel could hear the fear in his voice now as Mitch swung the stick forcefully. Bryan ducked and dove away to the left. 

“He's gonna beat up Bryan,” Al breathed. “Oh, Daniel, he's gonna do it! He's totally nuts!”

Daniel rubbed over his tender eye and regretted it right away. Squeezing it shut he waited for the pain to subside. “Okay,” he moaned. “I'll... I'll...” He didn't finish the sentence, but started to crawl out from between the cars. 

He ran, ducked, dove down and wrapped his arms around Mitch's legs, toppling him over. The sturdy boy fell like a tree, the iron bar hit the ground and Daniel saw Bryan out of the corner of his good eye as he kicked it out of reach. Daniel let go of Mitch's legs, jumped to his feet and moved away from him, ready for the attack.

Mitch didn't move.

Bryan stared at his friend. “Is he... is he...?”

Daniel opened his mouth to say something when Mitch slowly heaved himself into a sitting position, holding his head. He was crying now. Like a five year old. Big fat crocodile tears. But Daniel didn't feel any satisfaction. He felt more like crying himself. 

He blinked away the moisture leaking from his bad eye. “Are you okay?”

Mitch stood, glowered at him, then at Bryan. “Fuck off,” he mumbled and started limping away, furiously wiping at his eyes. 

“Hey, where're you going?” Bryan started following him, but then stopped and stood in the middle of the yard, apparently not sure what to do.

Mitch hobbled to his bike, mounted it slowly and rode away. 

“Aren't you going, too?” Daniel shot Bryan a curious look. 

“Yeah.” But he didn't move. Then he squinted at Al, who was slowly coming closer. “You all right, loser?”

“Yeah. You?”

Bryan shrugged. “I guess.” 

Al's brother had several scratches on his face. His sweatshirt was ripped at one arm and Daniel could see that rolling on the rubble ground had left its traces on Bryan's skin. He was also sporting a black eye, probably matching Daniel's. They all looked kind of worse for wear. 

Bryan pulled something from his bomber jacket and handed it to Daniel. “Your phone. I didn't have mine so I took yours. Called the first number you had on speed dial.”

“Jack,” Daniel mumbled, a wave of relief washing over him.

“He's on his way.” Bryan looked uncomfortable. “Boy, he is mad.”

“Yeah.” Daniel felt weak in his knees and sat down on the hard paved ground. Jack was mad, but he'd also help. Take them home. Put band aids and cold cream on bruises and cuts. Somehow the thought was comforting.

“You better run,” Al piped up. 

Bryan slumped to the ground next to Daniel. “Why? His dad is going to call mom. And mom's going to talk to the shrink.”

“Her name is Doctor Svenson,” Daniel said grimly. It didn't matter that he used to call her shrink, too. She had earned his respect and while he didn't always like what she was doing, she was the best shrink he'd ever met; if you could say that of a shrink. 

“Whatever,” Bryan said. “She's going to do this role play stuff again.” He grimaced. “And she'll go on about how I need to learn to channel my anger into something else, blah blah.”

“Yeah, she's a huge fan of role plays,” Daniel agreed. 

“I hate seeing her. It's all your fault. And his.” Bryan pointed at Al, who had sat down a little away from them. 

“He was just trying to get help,” Daniel spat. He thought he was too beat to be angry anymore. Apparently he'd been wrong.

“Why? He's the one getting all the attention. Always. He's got the brains.” Bryan sounded as though he didn't give a damn, but Daniel knew better. 

“That's not true,” Al murmured. “Dad's always on your side, saying I'm like a baby. He's always turning a blind eye when you're nasty.”

“Dad's gone now. Your fault, too,” Bryan snapped.

Al put his head on his pulled up knees and started crying softly. 

“Leave him alone,” Daniel snarled. He moved closer to his friend and put an arm around him. Al was bleeding from a gash by his ear where the screw nut had hit him. 

“He's right,” Al sobbed. “Dad would still be home if we didn't start therapy.”

“But you had to,” Daniel said. “You couldn't go on like that. Not with him bullying you and your parents doing nothing.”

Bryan gave them a gloomy look. “The only thing they ever do is yell a bit and then carry on with their stuff.”

“That's not true,” Al sobbed. “It's not true. They're trying. Mom is.”

“Yeah? How?”

“She's working hard to make a living for you. To pay your football practice and Al's new school and therapy. If your dad is really gone it's even harder for her,” Daniel said flatly, remembering a talk he had with Jack back in the summer. Maybe Jack was right, maybe Bryan was right. Or maybe they were both a bit right. He didn't know. Strangely enough he used to think like Bryan, but he knew most things in the world had two sides to look at. 

“You're all knowing, are you, geek?” Bryan scowled at him. He turned his back on them and stared at the deserted building. 

**III**

“I'm on my way home. What'd Fraiser say?” Jack glanced at his rear view mirror to check on the three boys. None of them had said more than a few mumbled words when he had picked them and their bikes up. Had swallowed their tongues, which was probably the best they could do right now. 

Jackson, who was back at Jack's place, said, “She'll be over in an hour. How bad is it?”

He took in their various states of bruises and cuts. “They'll live. I need ice packs and band aids. And the antibiotic stuff. You'll find everything in the bathroom.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to fire up the grill?” 

“The grill?” The last thing on Jack's mind was dinner. But it was getting late. They had to eat something and the steaks were already prepared. He sighed. “Yeah, go ahead.”

They had been on their way to the mountain to activate the tracking device for Daniel's GPS when Jack got Bryan's call. It had happened so fast, he hadn't had much time to figure out what was going on. The kid had given him the location and said his friend was trying to kill Al and Daniel with an iron bar. Jack hadn't bothered to call back. He'd just turned the truck around and gone as fast as he dared without risking being stopped by the cops. 

What he'd found were three dirty, bruised kids in a deserted courtyard. The fourth one had gone AWOL. He'd made sure they were all more or less in one piece, had loaded them and their bikes into his truck and was on his way back home, trying to calm down enough to deal with this without adding more bruises to the ones they already sported. 

He was getting there.

Slowly.

When they reached the house he told them to go inside and wait in the living room. The Miller boys scurried away without another word. When Jack had loaded down the three bikes he found Daniel hovering by the garage. 

“Go inside,” he repeated his earlier order.

Daniel didn't move. “We didn't plan this,” he said quietly. “They were suddenly there. What were we supposed to do? Run?”

“And what were you doing miles away from our neighborhood in the first place?” Jack asked snidely.

Daniel sighed. “That's... another story.”

“Ah. Good one?”

“I'm sorry.”

“You're SORRY? We were about to track you and get an S & R team on your back. While you had nothing better to do than playing High Noon with those punks and beat the crap out of each other! You're not sorry, yet, Daniel, but you will be damn sorry once I'm through with you.” 

“Jack...” He blinked and shook his head. “You once said sometimes kids have to fight their fights alone. You said... it's good to know how to defend yourself. You helped to train Al.” There was a suspicious tremble in the kid's voice and before Jack could say anything else, Daniel abruptly turned and walked away. Not into the house, but to his tree house. 

“Aw, crap,” Jack huffed as he pushed the bikes into this garage and locked the door. He needed a couple of minutes to get his anger under control. It was probably better to let Daniel stew up there for a bit and deal with the other two first. 

He found the Miller kids on the couch. Jackson was perched on the coffee table, armed with damp clothes, towels, antibiotic cream and band aids. “I'll clean them up before letting them have the ice packs,” he greeted Jack. Then he frowned. “Where is Daniel?” 

“Tree house,” Jack said curtly, absently petting the dog who had come to greet him. He gave the two brothers a weary look. Al blinked away tears and hung his head while Bryan was giving him a defiant glare. 

“What happened? I want the truth and I don't want to hear any whining or accusations.” 

There was a long silence, then Al sniffed and started to explain in a small shaking voice. How they had gone to the comic books store – Al tried very hard to make Jack believe he'd talked Daniel into it. Maybe that was true, maybe not. It didn't really make a difference, but Jack couldn't help it. He thought Al had guts for taking the whole blame. Something he wouldn't have done a couple months ago. He then went on about how they had met Bryan and Mitch. Or rather how Mitch and Bryan had started to chase them. 

Jack held up a finger and turned to look at the other brat. “That true?” 

He was curious to know what Bryan had to say. He received a curt nod and a glare, but unlike the last time he had confronted the older Miller kid about the whole Buster incident Jack got no whining or defending tactics this time. “Yeah.” 

“Where's your buddy?” 

“He ran.” Bryan bit his lip and stared at his dirty knees. “He... he was furious. Because of Buster.”

Jack couldn't believe this. “He had that dog with him again?”

“No. Buster's gone. His parents got rid of him. Gave him away to the pet shelter.” 

“Why?” But he had a bad inkling about that.

Bryan looked up and the glare was back. “Because you told them you'd call animal control if they didn't keep him in the house or on a leash. And they didn't want to deal with that. Whatever.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” he said quietly. It had to be hard for the boy to lose his dog. Not that it was an excuse. Was probably better for the dog, too.

Bryan snorted. “Yeah, right.” Then he jerked his head away as Jackson cleaned a graze on his right cheek. 

“Sorry,” Jackson said quietly. “Has to be done. Hold still.”

Bryan squeezed his eyes shut as adult Daniel continued to work. 

“I didn't know about Buster,” Al murmured. There was a band aid on the gash by his ear and a thin layer of antibiotic cream covering several grazes on his arms. The boys had taken off their shirts and Jack thought Al had gotten away better than his brother, who had a large bruise blooming on his ribs and his elbow aside from the one in his face. 

He needed to take care of Daniel. Maybe he'd get the rest of the story out of him. As though he had read his thoughts, Jackson said, “Go. I'll patch these two up and take care of dinner.”

“Thanks.” Jack gathered together what he needed and went out to the tree house. 

The door wasn't locked and Daniel sat on the couch; a small slumped figure with an impressing shiner circling his eye and left cheekbone. There was some dried blood at the corner of his mouth. His upper lip was swollen. He looked up briefly when Jack put his medical supplies on the table.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” He asked as he settled down beside Daniel. 

He put a hand under the kid's chin and tilted his head back. The bruises on the young face made his guts clench. He knew what he had said that day in the park. That they should stick together. That back in his days they used to take matters in his own hands. 

He should have known that particular advice would come back to bite him in the ass one day. 

“Open your mouth.”

“I still have all my teeth,” Daniel said.

“Let me check.”

Daniel sighed, but complied and Jack found no chipped or missing teeth, which was a relief. He let go of Daniel's jaw and gave him a hard look. “So, you kicked butt, and got yours kicked, too. Who won?” 

“Dunno. Mitch ran off crying. And Bryan doesn't look so good. But then neither do we,” Daniel murmured. 

“You think that's it? They won't bug you anymore?”

Jack dipped the washcloth into the bowl with warm water and started to dab gently at the smudges of dirt and dust on the non bruised part of Daniel's face. 

“I don't know. It got out of hand.”

“Ya think?” 

Daniel took a deep shaking breath. “Mitch, he... Jack, he had an iron stick and I think he really wanted to hurt us. Or worse. Do you remember some of the Goa'uld we had to fight? How gleeful they were to harm others? How happy to inflict pain? Mitch wasn't like a kid, he was freaking me out.”

Jack felt the cold shiver run down his spine again. H e cupped Daniel's face once more and brushed a thumb over his unbruised cheek, wiping away a wayward tear. As it so often happened it was hard to be mad at him for any length of time. 

“It's over,” he said gruffly. 

“What if it's not?”

Jack had no answer to that. 

When he had encouraged the kids to give Al a bit of fighting lessons he hadn't seen this coming. He'd thought with the Millers in therapy and Daniel boosting Al's self confidence things were under control. Hell, months had gone by. There had been no more incidents after the dog fight. And even if Jack would have thought there might be a confrontation, he'd never expect it to be like this. Those were kids, for crying out loud. A bloody nose was one thing. Trying to beat someone up with an iron stick was a total different story. This could have ended much worse. They had gotten lucky on the whole.

Jack told Daniel about Mitch's dog as he continued to clean him up and helped him out of his jacket and shirt to take a look at his body. Scratches and a couple more minor bruises, but nothing too bad.

“I had no idea,” Daniel whispered. 

“It's no excuse,” Jack said sharply. But he knew Daniel needed the explanation to process why Mitch had been so outraged and determined to beat them into a pulp. 

“No, it isn't. Buster might even have a better home now. But maybe Buster was all the real family Mitch had.” 

“We need to call Svenson. She'll inform social service. Someone has to take care of that kid.”

“And social service is going to help,” Daniel said bitterly.

Oh, no, Jack wasn't getting into that kind of discussion. “Someone has to. And it won't be you or me. The O'Neill kid shelter is closed,” he said as he put antibiotic cream on Daniel's bruises and the swollen lip. 

“What now?” Daniel asked more timid. “What's going to happen?”

“Fraiser will be over to make sure none of you has a concussion or any injuries I missed. I'm going to call Mrs Miller at work to let her know she can pick up her kids here. Then we'll have dinner.” 

“Are you going to talk to Al's mom?”

Jack would rather eat a bowl of termites, but he nodded. “Yep.” 

“Keep in mind that Bryan called you. And that he helped me getting rid of Mitch. And that he didn't run when we were waiting for you?” 

Jack held out his shirt to Daniel who put it back on. “You think there's hope for him, then?” 

Daniel shrugged. “He's very angry. But maybe he's not as mean as he seems to be. Or maybe Svenson's stupid role plays are showing effects.”

“Some effects,” Jack snorted.

“Well, in the end he helped us.” Daniel rubbed his nose, then glanced at Jack. “Um, Jack?”

“Daniel?”

“You don't maybe, uh, think getting beaten up and bruised will safe me from getting busted for wandering off?” One hopeful puppy dog eye was aimed at him. The other one was too swollen to become much puppy dog like.

He had to turn away from those eyes. They were getting to him, even after all this time. Jack had learned to resist them on occasions, but it was nearly impossible when all he wanted was to hug the stuffing out of the bratling. He looked so vulnerable, so beat.

However, Jack decided a healthy dose of tough love was in order. 

“Nope. You'll have to say goodbye to your bike for a while and you're grounded to the house for two weeks. No play dates and no going out on your own. Maybe next time you're chased by the baddies you'll call for help _before_ you get beaten up. I wouldn't have been fast enough to keep it from happening, but at least I wouldn't have worried my ass off not knowing where you were.”

Bottom line was; if the boys hadn't left the neighborhood Jack would have been there a LOT faster. Maybe they'd even made it home before anything bad could have happened. Nope, he wasn't backing down on this one. 

“There was little time to call you while we were trying to escape the goons,” Daniel muttered.

“All you had to do was press speed dial and let me know you're in trouble and where you were. Al's brother managed to do it. You didn't call because you knew you'd be in trouble for wandering off. You thought you'd manage to dodge them and get away with coming home just a bit late.”

The flaming heat rushing into Daniel's face proofed Jack's assumption to be spot on. 

“Damn it, Daniel, we were on our way to track you down. I'm not going to negotiate on this. You left the area you're allowed to ride in and that had nothing to do with those brats cornering you.” 

“We would've been home in time if they hadn't caught us,” Daniel said under his breath. “We weren't that far away at first.”

“That's not the point. Don't you start splitting hairs with me, Mister.” 

“I know. But... I couldn't call you,” Daniel insisted. “We had to face this, Jack. We would have ended up running all the time once they started to follow and hunt us. And you... you said some things are worth getting into trouble for.” 

He took a deep breath. Hell, maybe Daniel was right. It didn't make Jack feel any better though. It certainly didn't excuse the kids wandering off. “So, was it worth it?” 

Daniel sighed. “Maybe.”

“Then you won't mind the consequences.” He gave the brat a gentle push towards the door and they went back into the house. 

***

Big Daniel had to bite back a grin at the sight of the three boys sitting on Jack's couch pressing ice packs against their heads. They all looked appropriately sheepish as Janet shone her penlight into their eyes, probed their bruises and apparently felt that a good chewing out was part of her bedside manners.

He was at the grill turning burgers and steaks, but he could hear her sharp words about what could have happened if they had accidentally hit too hard in the wrong places, and how they'd all gotten lucky they hadn't ended up in the hospital. 

“She's doing all the work for me,” Jack said with a sour smirk. “I won't have to add a thing once she's through with them. Nice.” 

“As long as they don't tell her you were encouraging Al to fight. Otherwise you're next on her list.”

“Hey, that's not fair. I thought it would be good for the kid to lose his fear. I didn't tell them to go out and play hooligans.”

Daniel glanced back over his shoulder at the bedraggled warrior kids. “You think any good will come out of this disaster? That they won't feel the need to fight it out again at the next best opportunity?” 

Jack grimaced. “I don't know. Daniel won't have any chances to get into fights for a while. But no one's keeping an eye on those brothers to enforce any kind of rules or consequences. It'd be good to make sure something like this won't happen again long term. How, I don't know. I was hoping Svenson might help.”

“Good luck,” Daniel said. He didn't envy Jack for having to sort this all out. The evening was going downhill pretty fast. Not quite what he had been looking forward to. But at least it was distracting him from his own problems for the moment. 

“I have to call the kids' mother. Al gave me her work number.” Jack looked like he was being executed. 

“And that's... bad?” 

“She's driving me nuts. Can't sit still for a minute, can't concentrate on any conversation. She's a bit hyper. I guess she has her head so full she can't slow down. And while she's never home she's still worried about all and anything.” Jack shook his head. 

He left and Daniel took care of the burgers and steaks. He put everything on a plate and carried it inside. It was dark and chilly now so they had to move their BBQ into the dining room. 

“I hope the colonel will have a word with your mother,” Janet said as she snapped her bag shut. “You'll put the ice packs on the swellings several times tomorrow, but there's no reason not to go to school on Monday. I tell you again, you guys got very lucky!”

“Yes, ma'am,” Bryan and Al mumbled, hanging their heads.

She turned her stormy brown eyes on Little Daniel. “I will see you in my infirmary Monday morning, young man.”

LD's head bopped up and down. “Yes, Janet.”

Daniel felt sorry for his little self. He considered asking why he'd have to see the doc if the other two apparently didn't have to. But he wisely kept his mouth shut. It was never good to get into her line of fire. It probably couldn't hurt if she took another look at mini-him. 

He put the food on the dining room table. Jack had already set out everything else and locked the dog away so he wouldn't steal anything edible while no one was looking. 

“Will you stay for dinner, Janet?” he called down into the living room.

He couldn't see the kid's faces, but he was sure the mere thought scared them to death. 

She shook her head. “I'd love to, but I'm taking the opportunity of being home earlier to eat with Cassie. In a way you did me a favor.” There was a smile on her face as she looked up at him. 

Daniel nodded. “Say hi to Cassie.”

“I will. Where's the colonel?” 

“On the phone with their mom, I guess.” 

“He needs to let her know how to treat those bruises.” She seemed indecisive. “Maybe I should stay until she gets here.” 

“You'll have to have dinner with us then. She won't be here until twenty hundred.” Jack was coming out of the kitchen, phone still in hand. He didn't look happy. “I'll let her know what to do. The usual, right?”

“Ice packs and cool gel, yes. You know the drill. I still want to see Daniel on Monday.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Why? He doesn't seem worse than the other two.”

“He needs a prescription for new glasses, for starters,” Janet snapped.

Jack winced. “Right. Got it. Monday.” 

They all let out a relieved breath when the base's CMO had left the building. Even Daniel. He loved Janet, but she could be intimidating when she was in 'doctor-knows-best' mode. 

Dinner was an uncomfortable affair. The three kids were perched on the edges of their chairs, merely gazing at their food. Al still seemed at the verge of tears, Daniel appeared to be deep in thoughts and Bryan scowled at his plate as though he was about to be poisoned. 

Jack looked grim and let his annoyance out on his poor steak as he tortured it with fork and knife.

“Your potato salad is great, Daniel,” Big Daniel started an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Thanks,” LD replied flatly. 

Bryan poked at his salad with the fork. “You can cook?” 

“Yeah. So?” 

“Weird.”

“Eat it or leave it,” the boy sniped, the heat creeping into his face.

“I bet it tastes rotten.”

“Then choke on it.”

Al raised his head and wiped a hand under his running nose. “Stop it,” he whined. 

Daniel gave Jack a helpless look. That went well. Not. 

Jack put his beer bottle down with a thud. “You three can start eating now or go back to sit on the couch and stew there. Your choice. I won't sit here listening to you bitching at each other.” 

Bryan bolted from the table and stomped out of the dining room. 

Al and Daniel exchanged a glance, and Al started eating without much enthusiasm. Daniel took one sip of his Seven Up. 

Jack glared at him.

Daniel took another sip of his drink.

“Eat,” Jack ordered. 

“I'm not hungry.”

“Then join Bryan in the living room.”

“Can I go to my room?”

“No.”

LD started cutting his steak into tiny pieces and when Jack continued to look at him he finally started eating, too. 

However, none of them had much of an appetite and it didn't take long before Jack gave up on letting the boys sit through dinner any longer than necessary. He sent them back into the living room and started clearing the table, making a lot of noise in the process. 

Daniel helped with the dishes and cringed when Jack broke a plate as he slammed everything into the dishwasher with too much force. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, disposing the two halves of the plate while Jack cursed under his breath and snatched a second beer from the fridge. 

“Peachy,” Jack snarled. “What about you? Having a great time? Nice dinner?” He banged the fridge door shut. “Fuck.”

“Jack... “

“Go home. I'm not exactly great company right now.” 

“We didn't even open the wine yet,” Daniel said mildly. He didn't feel like going home. 

“Take it and drink it with Fergus,” Jack said. He sounded tired now rather than angry. 

“No.” Daniel shook his head. “It's been weeks since we spent time together. I've been looking forward to it.” 

“Great. Look what a blast we're having,” Jack said with a sardonic little smile. “And it'll get even better once their mother arrives and starts making a fuss.” 

“Yeah, and once she's gone you'll need a drink. Or two.”

“Jackson... “

“I'm staying if you don't mind. Fergus is out tonight.”

Jack gave him a doubtful look. “And you've got nothing better to do than sit through this drama with me?” 

“Thought you could use a friend.” 

“More like a mediator. Or a shrink. This isn't gonna be easy.” Jack took a long swig of his beer. 

“Did you call Svenson?”

“Got the answering machine.” 

“Well, I'm a diplomat in case you forgot.”

Jack sighed. “Sorry for the mess. Those brats chose a fine day to have it out with each other.” He grimaced at his beer. “Probably shouldn't drink any more of these until they're gone.”

“Some things are easier when drunk,” Daniel said with a grin. “Don't worry about me. You know what they say about best laid plans.”

“Yeah, but I was looking forward to this, too. It's been a while. And I'm far from being drunk ... yet, Mister Cheap Date.” Jack scowled. 

“You're pissed because you didn't get to wine and dine me properly?” 

“Well, yeah.” Jack gave him a one shoulder shrug. “Missed ya. Sorta. Maybe.”

Daniel felt oddly warm. Sometimes Jack was kind of... sweet. In a very Jack-like way. “It wasn't a date,” he reminded him gently. Not that Jack needed reminding of that. 

“No, but it could have been fun anyway,” Jack muttered.

***

“Can't we turn on the TV?” Bryan asked gloomily.

“You can try and see what Jack has to say about it,” Daniel replied. 

“Why are we sitting here anyway?” 

Daniel shrugged. He would have preferred to be sent to his room, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. “He wants us to stew until your mom shows up. Or until we start talking.” 

“About what?” Bryan sneered. “Does he want us to shake hands and make up?” 

“Something like that.”

“Is he mental?”

“Shut up.” 

“Who does he think he is anyway?” 

Daniel felt his anger flare up again, but it was Al who suddenly hissed, “Colonel O'Neill isn't mental. Take it back! Take it back or I'll... I'll...” He balled his hands into fists. 

Daniel groaned. “Stop it, Al. You're just making this worse. It's what he wants. To provoke us.”

Al bit his lip and let his hands fall back into his lap.

“Since when are you so brave, loser?” Bryan asked.

“I'll show you. I'm going to join the Air Force and go to the academy. I'm gonna be a pilot. And a hero. And then you'll never bully me again,” Al said. “I'm taking fighting lessons. And one day I'll be stronger than you are, Bryan.” 

Bryan started laughing and it took all of Daniel's willpower not to punch his nose. He had no idea if Al would make it into the academy and he wasn't sure that was really what his friend wanted. But he hated Bryan for laughing at his brother and squashing his self confidence once more.

To his surprise Al didn't start crying. He drew himself up to his full height, stared at Bryan and said, “I didn't run from you today. And I won't ever run from you again. You laugh all you want. I'll show you.” 

“That's just words,” Bryan said, but he wasn't laughing anymore.

“You better believe it,” Daniel said, though he didn't believe it himself. Especially if Mitch continued to be Bryan's sidekick. Today, Al had stood his ground much better than Daniel had expected. But what if Daniel was still grounded when those two cornered Al again? He had no illusions about Al's mom being very useful in this. She had to work. And whatever consequences Svenson and Mrs. Miller might think up, who would make sure Bryan stuck to the rules? 

But he didn't say any of this. He gave Al an encouraging smile. What else could he do?

Unless... “I need to talk to Jack.”

Al's eyes grew big. “He said we were to sit here and be quiet.”

“Yeah, I know. I'll be right back.”

He found Jack and BD in the kitchen. Jack had a beer and they were at the table, talking or just sitting there. Daniel closed the door behind him and tried to check out the overall mood. 

Jack raised his eyebrows at him. “What?”

“I need to talk to you.” Remembering his diplomatic skills he added, “Please?”

Daniel wasn't sure, but he thought BD was nodding in Jack's direction. Jack said, “If you're here to negotiate you can save your breath, turn around and go back to the living room.”

“But you can't ground me,” Daniel blurted out.

Jack's eyes narrowed dangerously. “And why's that?”

“Bryan and Mitch might try to get even with Al for getting them into trouble. They might think twice about it if we're still two on two. But Al alone is no match for them.” 

“I want you to stop and listen to yourself for a moment, Daniel,” Jack said. “Where is it going to end? When are you going to stop? When one of you kids end up with a broken nose or worse?” 

“You tell Mitch and Bryan that,” Daniel said. “We didn't start this.” He turned to BD. “If I'm stuck here for two weeks who knows what they'll do to him.”

BD looked thoughtful. “There has to be a way to make sure Mitch and Bryan will leave Al alone. You can't be his body guard all the time, Daniel. And the four of you can't continue to beat each other up at any given opportunity.”

“That's not what we want! And maybe Bryan can see reason, but Mitch is out of control. Even if Svenson calls social service it's no guarantee he'll leave us alone.” 

Jack grimaced. “I hate to admit it, but he's got a point there. Best would be that Mitch fella was taken out of the picture. I think in this case he's the driving force.” 

“So what are you going to do? Call the police and press charges because he was trying to beat them with an iron bar?” BD asked. “Might get him a ticket or a fine his parents have to pay.”

“And it will make him hate us even more,” Daniel said.

“Oh, I don't know,” Jack bitched. “I've seen his dad. He might even be proud.”

“Which would not solve anything at all,” Daniel countered.

“I was getting to that point.” BD nodded.

“So we move to California,” Jack snapped. “What? What do you want me to do? I'm no Childhelp center. And I'm not responsible for any of them but _you_ ,” he jabbed a finger at Daniel, “and if you don't want to be grounded I'll think of something else. You're not off the hook, buddy. And your bike stays locked in the garage until further notice.” 

“You took responsibility for Al when you started helping to train him,” Daniel said, pretending to be a lot more self secure than he actually was. “He looks up to you. You can't just turn your back on him now.” 

“He's got another point there,” BD said and Daniel was more than grateful to have him here today. 

“I'm not turning my back on anyone,” Jack snapped. 

“Then _do_ something,” Daniel snapped back. 

“Like _WHAT_?!”

“I don't know!”

“Oh, that's helpful. Not.”

“You're supposed to be the adult here! Try using your brain?” He regretted the words as soon as he had said them. His diplomatic skills had apparently become a bit rusty. Biting his lip he swallowed hard as Jack bolted to his feet.

“Right, that does it! Daniel...”

“I might have an idea,” BD said calmly and got hold of Jack's arm to pull him back down on his chair. “Are we all ready to talk like civilized people again?” He gave Daniel a poignant look.

“Sorry. I didn't mean that,” he said, feeling a bit sheepish and quite embarrassed.

Jack's jaw twitched as he turned to glare at BD. “What's that idea of yours?” 

BD pursed his lips. “You're probably not going to like it. But I think it would be a start into the right direction.” He addressed Daniel. “I'd like to talk to Jack about it first. Alone.”

Daniel didn't want to leave. He wanted to hear all about this idea, too. But he knew he had pushed his luck far enough for today, so he nodded and left with the hope that BD came up with something useful.

**IV**

It took a shot of Jack Daniel's to calm Louise Miller enough to discuss the matter without bursting into tears over and over again at the sight of her sons. 

Jackson had given her whiskey, handed her a box of Kleenex, talked to her in that calm quiet voice he reserved for scared aliens or an upset little Daniel. Whenever she'd turned to look at her children and started to tear up again Jackson gently reminded her Bryan and Al were okay and taken care of and she looked into his earnest, open, blue eyes, take another Kleenex and gave him a helpless little smile, which he returned with one of his 'everything's going to be okay' ones.

People trusted Daniel. He reached out to them and they just couldn't help it; they had to at least listen to him. That didn't apply to Goa'uld or Super soldiers, but it worked on most humans and less humanoid species. 

Bottom line was; Jack would have preferred an army of Goa'uld-loyal Jaffa over this and he appreciated to have Jackson at his back. 

Jack had finally sent the boys to Little Daniel's room with strict orders to be quiet and not start any fights, or else... He had no clue what 'or else' meant in this case, but he had given them his deadly colonel glare and no one had asked for specifics. Not even Little Daniel. 

While Jackson had still been talking to Mrs. Miller the phone rang and it had been Svenson. Jack had explained the situation to her and when she'd offered spontaneously to come over and help he was very close to wanting to hug her. 

So here they were. 

Doc took over in that competent brisk way of hers as they were all sitting around the kitchen table, except for the kids. Jack made coffee and gave Louise another shot of Jack Daniel's, just a small one, into hers. Seemed to work like a charm in the way of getting her to relax and not venture into one of her endless ramblings about this and that. 

Svenson whipped out a notebook and a pen and wrote down what had happened from Jack's point of view, then asked about the boys' reaction and how they were doing now. 

“I'm going to talk to them later. Maybe it's not such a bad thing they finally let off some steam. I'm not saying what they did was right, but there was a lot of tension and built up aggression simmering on Bryan's part. And I think Al was not far off even though he never appeared openly aggressive towards his brother. He must have stored up a lot of anxiety and anger over the years though. If we're lucky it had to escalate this once before it can get better,” the psychologist said thoughtfully. “In an earlier session Bryan told me about Mitch and his dog and how hard he was taking it. We could call Childhelp and send someone to talk to him and his parents. Though from what Bryan told me it could be hard to get them to cooperate.”

Jack had met the father of that boy. He had a pretty good idea how a visit from Childhelp would go over. Oy. 

Mrs. Miller shook her head. “I know Mitch's godmother Marilyn. We used to go to the gym together... when I still had time to go to the gym. She was often worried about him. I could call her and... I... “ Her eyes fluttered from Svenson to Jackson. “I'm not quite sure what to do, but maybe Marilyn could... I really don't know.”

“Do you think she might be able to have some influence on Mitch? Or his parents?” Svenson asked.

“Probably. She used to babysit Mitch, at least I think I remember her saying that. It's been so long since we talked, but I'm sure she'll remember me. Oh, I'd have to see where I have her number, of course, but it should be somewhere at home. I'll... I'll call her, yes.“

“There are quite a few social organizations in the Springs who'd make first contact with families in need of help – and not charge anything if money is an issue,” Svenson went on. “If you would call Mitch's godmother I'd give you a list of addresses she could turn to.”

“Yes, I... I think that might work,” Mrs. Miller said. 

Next they discussed Jackson's idea. Svenson listened to it, continued to make notes and then turned her Nordic blue eyes on Jack. “That's … unusual. Are you sure you want to go through with this, Colonel? There's no guarantee it'll work. It might. But it might also backfire.” 

“I'd like to give it a go, yeah. Under one condition.” He had made that point to Jackson earlier when they had talked about it. “Daniel is going to be a huge factor in this. And I know him; he's going to feel responsible for it to work out. If this fails he'll think it's his fault.”

Svenson shook her head. “Under no circumstances has he any reason to blame himself, no matter how this turns out. I'll talk to him.”

“You can talk to him. I'll talk to him. But he's still going to take it personally. Just so we're absolutely clear – I'm willing to help. But I'm going to give my kid a choice on this. If he's uncomfortable with it, I won't do it. If this goes bad and he's working himself up over it, this experiment is over.” He'd ground Daniel the whole two weeks and take his privileges from him. But he wouldn't go any further if he had the impression Daniel couldn't deal with this.

Svenson nodded. “I agree. I'll be available anytime for you or the kids. In fact, we'll make several appointments to go with this so I can be part of it.” She addressed Mrs. Miller next. “What about you, Louise? Do you have any objections?”

“I'd be very grateful. With Ron gone I have a lot of things to take care of these coming weeks. But I'll do whatever is necessary to help.” She brushed a trembling hand through her hair and gave Jack an anxious look. “You must think I'm the most unfit mother on the planet. I'm never home, I never seem to know what my kids are doing. I don't want to make any excuses... but things weren't always as they are now.”

“Louise, there is no need to share anything here you're not comfortable with,” Svenson said.

Mrs. Miller cleared her throat. “I want to say this, though; we don't neglect our kids by choice.” She paused and shook her head. “ _I_ do not neglect my kids by choice. Ron believes being independent at an early age is character building. I used to manage work and family time equally, but when I started to work at the Pharmacy Institute my work became more and more significant. The institute needs everyone's full commitment. We can't go home after eight or ten hours and call it a day. Not in my job.” 

Jack could hear her. He could relate. He was well aware that it was mostly thanks to Hammond's understanding of his and Daniel's situation that he was able to juggle his job and being a parent again. That, and maybe having saved the world a couple of times, had helped with getting a much more flexible work schedule.

“We know your husband is in a similar work situation,” Svenson said. “Our goal has been to find a way to work around that.” 

“The boys go to daycare after school... well, Al doesn't at the moment because we're still waiting to enroll him at daycare of his new school. After daycare there's football for Bry and computer club for Al twice a week. The rest of the time they are on their own, yes. Often on the weekends, too – but they seemed to be doing okay. I thought they just squabble... argue, you know, like siblings do? Ron kept saying it's normal. We do have babysitters when we have to go out at nights. But Ron... he always encourages the boys to take care of themselves. He put Bryan in charge because he's the oldest.” She let out a bitter laugh. “I'd like to think we only had their best interests in mind. And maybe we had. It seemed to work well. I think our biggest mistake was that we knew about the bullying and turned a blind eye for too long. Because Al rarely complained and Bryan rarely attacked him openly when we were around.” 

Svenson nodded. “And we are working on changing things for a while now. But it takes time. It won't happen overnight. Al will go to the new daycare by mid November? That would be about three weeks from now?” 

“Yes. Another kid is leaving then. It will be a huge relief to know he's taken care of in the afternoons. I would hire a nanny for the evenings, now that Ron is gone, but I'll have to find someone who is not too young and reliable. It's a money issue, too.”

 _Like we didn't take care of him,_ Jack thought annoyed. But he was glad that would be out of his hands soon. Al was always welcome here as long as Daniel was little. But Jack was starting to miss spending the weekends just with his own kid for a change. Besides, Daniel wouldn't stay little and if Al kept being such a huge part of their lives it would be even harder to make up a plausible reason for Daniel's sudden disappearance. It was going to be difficult enough as it was now. 

There was more talk, more notes and finally, just as Jack thought they'd never get there, Svenson wanted to see the kids. He went to get them and when he entered Daniel's room he found Al and Daniel playing cards while Bryan was on the bed, shooting space ships with Daniel's Nintendo. It was a rather peaceful sight if it wasn't for the grim faces – and the bruises of course.

They all jumped up at once and trudged past him into the lion's den. 

***

It was late when Louise Miller had taken her kids home and they said goodbye to Doctor Svenson. LD was on the couch, the ice pack back on his swollen eye. Brit Svenson closed her blue coat and shook hands with them. 

“You might not believe it, Colonel, but you're probably doing a very noble thing here,” she said quietly. “It could pave the way for a change of heart in Bryan. It depends a lot on the boys' reactions and cooperation, though.”

Jack shrugged and nodded in Big Daniel's direction. “It was his idea. If it doesn't work out we can blame him. He's also going to pay for the extra therapy sessions for Daniel if he develops new issues over this.” 

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Jack. And if it works you'll take all the credit?”

“Yep. That's what I thought,” Jack grinned, but the grin didn't reach his dark eyes and Daniel knew he was worried.

Daniel hoped they weren't making a huge mistake here. He was sure LD could and would handle this; that he actually needed to do this for his own benefit as well. It was an unusual solution and probably not what the average shrink would order. But only time would tell if they were doing the right thing here. The kids didn't know what lay ahead of them yet, only that they were all grounded. Jack wanted to talk to LD alone first and Mrs. Miller would inform Al and Bryan about their fate once Jack had given green light tomorrow.

Svenson looked thoughtful at Jack. “It's going to be a hard two weeks for all of you, but yes, I'm sure Daniel will agree to this. And I'm also sure he'll do his part very well.”

“That's not what I'm worried about,” Jack said weary.

“I know. I'll see the boys on Wednesday then,” she said. “I'll be here around six.”

They watched her leave and Jack muttered something about needing to use the bathroom. Daniel returned to the living room where Flyboy had taken up most of the couch and LD was using him as a head cushion. 

LD blinked and looked at Daniel sadly. “We ruined the whole BBQ day and now it's very late. Are you going to stay for a while?”

“For a while, yes,” Daniel said. “We'll have other BBQs. Don't worry about it.” 

“You could stay the night,” LD offered timidly. “I mean, on the couch.” 

“I can't. You know that.” He couldn't stay here. Not even on the couch. It was a no-go. 

“Jack would like you to stay,” the kid said. “He had a pretty bad day.”

“And Jack's day is going to get better if I wreck my back on that lumpy couch?” Daniel asked, feeling his resistance slip against his will. 

“No, but you could let him vent and get a little drunk. That would help.”

Oddly touched by his little version's concern for Jack, Daniel couldn't help but smile. “To make sure he's too hungover tomorrow to remember coffee is on the off limits list?” 

LD grimaced. “He won't ever forget that. Like the other hundred things he'll put on that list.”

“You better believe it,” Jack said dryly as he came down the steps into the living room. But in the light of the lamp by the couch Daniel saw Jack's face soften at the sight of LD and the ice pack. It seemed the bruise around the eye had gotten worse, but it was probably just the light increasing the dark shadows on the child's face. 

Waving the bottle of Chardonnay at Daniel, Jack smirked, “You can crash on the couch if you still want that wine.”

He opened his mouth to say he would call a cab, but for some reason the words wouldn't come across his lips. Instead he nodded. “Okay, thanks.” 

Jack grinned. “Sweet.”

LD sat up and gave Jack a rueful little smile. “I guess that's my cue to go to bed.” 

“Put the ice pack back into the freezer.” 

“Okay. 'nite, Daniel.” He left, followed by the dog.

“You hungry? There's leftovers from dinner,” Jack said into the ensuing silence. 

“No, thanks. The wine looks good though. I'll get glasses.” 

“Bring a beer.” Jack nodded in the direction of the hall. “I need to...”

“Tuck the little warrior in?” 

“Yeah. I'll be right back. Get comfy.” 

Daniel went into Jack's kitchen, fetched a beer from the fridge and then went to the cabinet in the dining room for a wine glass and an opener.

While he sat on the couch and opened the Chardonnay his thoughts circled around Fergus and the new... developments. 

He had thought long and hard about whether or not to talk to Jack about this. It was probably a bad idea especially today with everything else going on. Yet, he felt the need to process. To share. Maybe not today, though. Maybe today he just needed to hang out here and not think about it.

It took a while for Jack to return. When he did, he slumped down next to Daniel, reached for his beer and glared at it. Then he rubbed a weary hand across his face. “Leading SG-1 was easier than this.”

“How is he?”

“Knows he screwed up, but insists they had no choice but facing the goons.” Jack grimaced. “The bad thing is, he's right. Not much you can do when two teens try to beat the crap out of you in the middle of nowhere. Which is why I'm so pissed they wandered off in the first place.” 

“Can't change that now,” Daniel said.

“No. But he'll better stick to the rules in the future. Might have spared them a lot of bruises if they'd been close enough to come home.” 

“Sooner or later Bryan and Mitch would have caught them somewhere. They always do,” Daniel said.

“That's what he said. Their chances of avoiding trouble like that are still better if they stay in the neighborhood and he's just too stubborn to admit that.” Jack flicked the cap off his beer and on the coffee table. “Jackson, if this whole thing backfires I'm so gonna kick your... “

“He needs to do this, Jack,” Daniel interrupted. “I think he knows that, too.” 

“Why?! Why do you think he needs to play the mediator. He'll end up on a guilt trip if he thinks he fails!” 

“Because he sees something in Al. Something... something of himself,” Daniel tried to explain, taken aback by how strongly he felt about this, too. How clearly he knew what the kid was going through. Then again it shouldn't surprise him. They were the same person after all, sharing the same memories of their first childhood. LD had sensed the lost, scared kid he'd been back then in Al. “That's why he's so gung-ho on helping him. Because no one helped us back then.”

“For crying out loud, that's... “

“That's what's going to help him more than therapy sessions,” Daniel said quietly. 

“What if it doesn't work?” Jack snapped. “I'm going to be the one dealing with the fall out.”

“Then he tried. He'll be able to cope even if it goes wrong. If nothing else, that Bryan was held responsible at least once for what he did. And Svenson will be at your back. Daniel and you won't have to do this alone.”

“I'm going to recruit you, too,” Jack threatened darkly. “It was your brilliant idea. You get to be part of the fun.” 

“Ahhh, I'll be off world...”

“Aht! I know for a fact that you won't be off world all week.”

He felt busted and grinned. “Okay, recruit me, Colonel.” 

Jack scowled at him. “Should I ever end up being downsized, you'll take me in and endure all this crap – and a tenfold more. You owe me. Big time.”

“Let's hope you'll never end up downsized then,” he said dryly as he clinked his glass against Jack's bottle. 

“Chicken,” Jack growled, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“I'd do it though,” Daniel said sincerely. “I'd take you in. And suffer.”

“I know.” Jack put his beer down and went to start a fire. Five minutes later they were sitting in comfortable silence, watching the flames lick at the logs. 

Daniel swirled the wine in his glass and stretched out his long legs. “I don't even have a toothbrush,” he said.

“You'll live.”

“Or a razor.” 

“Mmmh, scruffy,” Jack homered.

Daniel snorted. “I shouldn't stay.” 

“You'll sleep on the couch, Jackson. I won't jump your bones in the middle of the night,” Jack said dryly. 

“I know that.”

“Not that I don't want to.” It was said in a matter-of-fact way.

Daniel downed his wine. “I know that, too.” 

Jack refilled his glass. “So, where's Fergus tonight?”

“Home, I guess.” Daniel nipped from his glass. 

Jack looked at him quizzically. “What's going on?” 

Daniel gave him a one shoulder shrug. “Busy month, bad week.” 

“Trouble in paradise?” There was no hint of mocking, no hopeful smirk. Just a simple question. Daniel was grateful for that.

“Can we not talk about that? I'd like to just...”

“Take a break?”

“Yeah.”

“Get drunk?”

“Maybe.”

“Be my guest.” 

***

“You were right, you know?” Jackson licked his lips and peered into his glass, then placed it back on the coffee table. The bottle was empty. And two more empty beer bottles had joined the Chardonnay. 

“About what?” Jack pushed the bowl of chips over to him. 

He took a handful and started munching them slowly. “Fergus is a Highlander. In Scotland there're Lowlands and Highlands,” he explained. 

He sounded totally sober. Only his eyes gave away that he was – if not drunk – very tipsy. Daniel always used to get this bright eyed lost-boy look when he was somewhere in the state between tipsy and drunk. “Fergus' family comes from a village called _An Dòrnaidh_. Used to be a fishing village. It's in Kintail, and that's in the Ross-Shire Highlands.” 

“Nice place?” Jack knew this was going somewhere so he refrained from telling Jackson he didn't give a damn where Fergus' family came from.

“There are three lochs in that area. Loch is the Gaelic word for lake, but you know that, right?”

“Heard about it, yeah.” 

“Right. So, three lochs and a castle close by. It's on a small island and can be reached over a bridge. I saw pictures of it, it's very nice. Was build in the 12th or 13th century.” 

Jack waited for the inevitable punchline of the story.

“Fergus had ancestors who owned the castle back in... the 15th century. He'd worked on figuring out all the missing parts of his clan's family tree over the last years and finally got confirmation that a branch of his clan used to own the castle,” Jackson went on. He absently handed the chips bowl back to Jack. 

“That's pretty cool. He can go over there and live in the ruins,” Jack said before he could hold himself back. Biting his lip he muttered an obligatory, “Sorry.”

But Jackson let out a low chuckle. “That pretty much sums it up.”

“What?” 

“He wants to go to Scotland and study the castle's entire history, maybe write a book about it and his clan's involvement. It's a great opportunity for him to go back to his homeland, meet up with his family. He's got a daughter teaching history at the university in Edinburgh.” Jackson leaned back into the couch and gazed into the fire. “I've never been to Scotland.”

What? What the hell was he getting at? “And you won't go to Scotland,” Jack blurted out. “I don't have to remind you that we have a bit of unfinished business to take care of.”

“No. No, I won't go to Scotland. But he will.” 

The silence grew longer between them and Jack tired to come up with something comforting to say. Nothing came to mind. “When?” 

“He'll wrap up everything now so he can spend Christmas with his kid,” Jackson said. He didn't sound bitter. A bit sad, but not heartbroken. At least that's what Jack hoped. He didn't want Jackson to be heartbroken. 

But damn... he couldn't help being a selfish bastard and congratulate Fergus to his great idea. At the same time he wanted to throttle the man. 

“For what it's worth - I'm sorry,” he said.

“No, you're not.”

“I'm trying here, okay?” Jack wanted another beer but stayed put. Wouldn't do him any good to be all too hung over tomorrow. 

Jackson waved it off. “Forget it. I'm not even sure I'm all that sorry myself. Not anymore.”

“He wanted you to come along,” Jack filled in the blanks. “You said no and now he's pissed.” 

“Something like that, yeah. It's funny. He's not that pushy, usually. Determined, yes. He didn't take no for an answer when he tried to ask me out for the first time either. But not like this. He was very euphoric when he told me about this trip. And he had it basically all fleshed out. When I told him point blank I couldn't go with him he got mad. Then he told me he'd go anyway, with or without me.”

“Bastard,” Jack snarled. 

“It's not like I'm holding him back,” Jackson said thoughtfully. “It's his life and his decision. I think this is something he wanted to do for years and now he has a valid reason to go and start over.”

“You don't make decisions like that alone when you're in a relationship,” Jack said. “And you don't make it a take it or leave it decision. Long distance is always crap, but it can work.”

“He doesn't want a long distance relationship. And to be honest, neither do I.” 

Jack eyed him curiously. “Soooo, you broke up?” 

“He left in a huff on Wednesday morning and I haven't heard from him since. But I don't see how we'll go on like this.”

“Want another drink?” 

He smiled. “No, but thanks. For at least pretending you're sorry for me.” 

Jack shrugged. “Always.”

The fire crackled, one of the logs popped loudly. The two men gazed at the flames, both wrapped up in their own thoughts. Jack thought it was a shame that Fergus' leaving the country wouldn't change anything for him. He wondered if Jackson would find someone else – and if Jack could stomach seeing someone else at Jackson's side. He'd just started to get used to Highlander guy. Or at least to the knowledge he was the part of Jackson's life Jack used to be. It was all screwed up, but that's how things were and neither Jack nor Jackson would give in to any temptation. It was written in stone. Had to be. 

But it seemed to get harder to walk the line with each passing month. 

“He thinks it's because of you,” Big Daniel's low voice ended the silence. “He actually believes the real and only reason I won't go with him is you.”

Jack couldn't help but smirk at that. “Nice. It's probably better he keeps believing it since you can't tell him the real reason.”

Jackson gave him a humorless little smile. “Actually, I'm not sure I would have gone with him even if Anubis wasn't breathing down our neck. I... I don't know. A couple of months isn't long enough for me to make commitments like that. Even if there was no little Daniel and no prophecy...”

“If there was no little Daniel and no prophecy we wouldn't have this discussion,” Jack said matter-of-fact. “We'd be in the bedroom having hot monkey sex or something.”

“Or something,” Jackson grinned.

“So, if things were different and I'd ask you to retire and go to Minnesota with me...?”

Jackson raised his eyebrows as he asked teasingly, “What's in _Minnesota_?”

“Peace, no fish and maybe some old Indian bones to dig up.” 

“We better call it a night,” Jackson said, still grinning.

“Answer the question.”

“What is this? Truth or dare?” He quickly rose from the couch and stretched his back muscles.

“Okay, fine. What if I asked you to go to Scotland with me. Or Paris. Or Egypt.”

He turned and looked down at Jack, his eyes soft in the firelight. “If things were different, I'd say Egypt sounds nice.”

Even on a crappy rotten day like this it was good enough to lift Jack's mood.

**V**

Monday afternoon Daniel Jackson O'Neill glanced into Jack's shed and let out a long suffering sigh. “All this stuff?” 

Al stopped chewing his gum long enough to say, “That's loads of trash.”

Bryan crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Way.” He spun around to face their task master. “I'm not gonna do it.”

 _He has guts_ , Daniel thought with grudging admiration. _Or maybe he's just as wacko as Mitch._

“Your choice,” Jack said imperturbable. “You can go inside and wait there until your mom's gonna pick you up. Just remember – one of you refuses to go with the program and you'll all get another day of being stuck with each other. And me.”

“Who cares.” Bryan stalked off and Daniel expected him to bolt for the driveway any minute. But he wasn't insane enough to try and get past Jack. He made his way over to the house and vanished inside. 

“He's going to keep us grounded forever,” Al whined.

“You two better get started. I'll take care of anything that's too heavy for you to carry.” Jack handed them two pairs of thick working gloves. “Put everything out on the lawn. And don't fool around with the tools.” 

Al pulled on his gloves. “That looks kind of messy, sir.”

“All the better I've got you busy beavers to help,” Jack said brightly. 

“If you say so.” Al walked tentatively inside, always on the look-out for spiders. Daniel followed him as he slipped his gloves on as well.

 _Boy, will I tell him off next time he's going on about how messy I am_ , Daniel thought as they started to carry out toolboxes, old bicycle wheels, jars with nails, screws and screw nuts, old garden tools that had long been replaced by new ones and whatever else had piled up in that shed over the years. How could so much junk end up in such a small shed anyway? 

Jack stood by the door and watched them work for a while, then he warned them again not to mess with the buzz saw or play hammer throwing. “I'll check on Bryan. I'll be right back.” 

“I bet Bryan has left through the front door,” Daniel muttered when Jack was gone. 

“Oh, I dunno. Mom confiscated our phones and keys so he can't call Mitch and he can't go home, and he doesn't have his bike. He's kind of stuck here.”

Together they dragged out two old deck chairs and a bunch of rotten cushions to go with them. Then Al found yet another toolbox and Daniel came up with a rusty oil can and several car care products that were out of date or almost empty. 

He had just dropped all the bottles and jars on one of the deck chairs when Bryan came strolling across the lawn. Al's big brother leaned against the open shed door and glowered at them. 

Daniel pushed past him. “You're in the way. Go back inside.”

“He kicked me out.” 

“Oh, Bryan – don't tell us you got in even more trouble and he added another day to this mess?” Al whined. 

Bryan shrugged. “I turned on the stupid TV and he said he didn't like my manners. Told me to sit on the deck and bore myself to death or go and help you little idiots.”

Daniel shoved a cob web covered cardboard box into Bryan's arms. “Get useful.”

For a moment the older boy looked at the box as though he wanted to drop it. Then he shrugged and piled it up by the other things before he hung back again to watch Daniel and Al work. 

“He's mean,” Al whispered. “I wish your dad would come back and chew him out.”

Daniel nodded darkly. But he'd listened very carefully to what Jack and Svenson had told them two days ago. And Jack had talked to him again yesterday. He knew perfectly well about the whole meaning of their forced group grounding – and his own special thankless task in all this mess. Jack had given him a clear choice. He could have said no. He could spend the next two weeks at home doing chores and being bored. Regarding Daniel's worries about Al not being safe, Jack had even offered to let his friend come over so they could be bored together since the Nintendo, the computer and TV were off limits. 

Daniel had made his choice. He owed Al. He had screwed up by getting them into this fight. And the longer he thought about it the more he realized how stupid he'd been. No one had told Jack about Mitch trying to stab him with his own knife... but it was just one of many things that should never have happened that day.

He dragged another cardboard box out, not caring what was in it, and then stepped up to Bryan. He knew he wouldn't get his attention by trying to appeal to his honor or team spirit. They weren't a team. They were enemies stuck in boot camp together.

“You know you won't get out of this. One way or the other you'll be stuck with us for at least two weeks and – after your stupid move from before – one extra day. I don't see why all three of us have to suffer because you're screwing this up. But those are the rules. And we all can play that game.” 

Bryan pulled a face. “What?”

“Al and I can take turns refusing to work. Or start fights with you. Then we'll end up spending three weeks together. Or four.”

“That's stupid. You'd dig your own grave.”

“Maybe. But you'd get busted all the same. Al and I don't mind hanging out together. We're friends.” 

“Even if you have to do chores all the time?” 

Daniel shrugged. “As long as you have to do chores, too.” 

“You're trying to blackmail me,” Bryan said, dumbfounded. 

“We're just trying to get you to help. So we'll all get out of this sooner. But if you chose to act up we'll pay you back the same way.” It was Al who had said that. He blushed scarlet as his brother started at him, but he didn't back off. 

Bryan walked into the shed, but not without smacking his brother's arm as he walked past him. Al bit his lip and rubbed the spot. Daniel waited until Bryan came back with an old basketball under his arm. Then he stuck out a foot and watched with satisfaction as the older boy stumbled and almost fell flat on his face. 

Al giggled, but Bryan threw the basketball away and balled his fists. 

“Come on,” Daniel said in a low voice. “Give me another black eye. Let's see how much longer we'll get for starting another fight.”

Bryan swallowed down whatever he wanted to say and spun on his heels. He kicked the basketball to the pile of junk and strode back into the shed.

“Thanks,” Al murmured and they went back to work.

Later, when Jack was done sifting through everything they had carried out he and Bryan loaded the stuff for the waste yard on the truck's bed while Al and Daniel dusted the shelves and swept the floor until Jack's shed was more or less clean. 

Then they carried everything back inside Jack wanted to keep. They were all dirty, sweaty and sore. Partly still from the fight and partly from today's work. It seemed to take forever until everything was back at its place.

Daniel joined in Al's and Bryan's under-the-breath moaning when Jack made them climb into the truck to take them to the waste yard where they had to haul everything to the containers and dispose of it. Granted, Jack and Bryan did most of the hauling while Al and Daniel handed things down from the truck. But by the time it was dark and they were on their way back home Daniel felt pretty much put through the wringer.

He was glad Jack didn't have another shed. Thankfully the garage was pretty neat. 

Al tugged at his arm and pointed at something. Daniel blinked and elbowed Bryan, who rubbed a hand through his grimy hair and tried to be rather unimpressed. But the loud growl of his stomach gave him away. 

Jack pulled to a stop at the drive in. “Dinner,” he said unnecessarily. “No toys, no dessert, no soft drinks.”

“What are we supposed to drink?” Al asked doubtful.

“Water. But you can all have extra large menus.”

By the time they reached the house they were hungry enough to eat a dozen burger. Jack had said no eating in the truck, so they had to wait and endure the delicious smell coming from their bags. As soon as they had gathered around the kitchen table, they dug in and by the time they were done nothing was left. 

“That's better than boot camp food, I guess,” Bryan admitted, grinning for the first time. “And beats microwave dinner.”

“Yeah, but I pretty much feel like being in boot camp otherwise,” Al groaned.

Daniel squinted at the loooong list of chores stuck to their fridge. “Tomorrow we'll rake leaves and do yard work.”

“How hard can it get?” Bryan asked. 

  
  


Jack's backyard didn't seem to be that big. However, it enclosed the house almost completely and the boys discovered there were a lot of trees who shed a lot of leaves. They raked and piled up, raked and piled up, raked and piled up – and yelled in turns at the dog who had fun jumping into the piles until Jack took pity on them and dragged Flyboy inside. Later, they had to rake the small piles together to a huge pile. Then they had to work together to fill the leaves into huge gardening garbage bags and put them on the truck. 

After a break where Jack served them hot chocolate, probably a treat for keeping the peace, they cut down some bushes and dead branches from the smaller trees under Jack's watchful eyes. 

Then it was off to the waste yard again to get rid of the leaves and scrub. This time Jack didn't take them to MacDonald's. Instead he took them to the Miller's house where Al's mom awaited them with potato casserole and chicken wings. Like the day before they wolfed down their dinner. Mrs. Miller was delighted at their appetite and Jack joked it must be all the fresh air. 

The Miller residence was in its usual chaotic state. In the hallway they had to step over several pairs of sneakers, high heels and slippers. The stairs to the upper floor were littered with stuff that probably needed to be carried upstairs and put away.

In the living room clean laundry was stacked up everywhere, waiting to be ironed, a laptop was on the coffee table, surrounded by myriads of books and foils. Piles of DVDs were on the floor in front of the TV and the book shelves needed dusting. 

Daniel knew what Al and Bryan would be doing on the weekend. Clean house. It was on the chore list. The weekend was the only time they weren't supposed to work together. Daniel would clean house, too. Only in his case there was a lot less to tidy up. He wondered if Jack would make him scrub the toilet with a toothbrush or something if he thought the house wasn't challenging enough. The thought wasn't amusing.

On their way home he couldn't keep himself from giving Jack a very long-suffering look and pointing out that it was just Tuesday. 

Jack patted his arm and smiled encouragingly.

  
  


Wednesday was different. On Monday and Tuesday Jack had showed up in Daniel's office at 16:00 sharp to drag him away from translations, ancient readings, artifacts and everything else Daniel considered important. That was a whole hour earlier than they usually went home. On Wednesday Jack appeared in the linguistics library at 15:00 and made him quit 'whatever you're doing and get ready to leave ASAP'. 

BD, who was with Daniel, gave him a wave and a sympathetic smile, but didn't feel the need to plead on his case with Jack. Of course he didn't. All this had been his idea in the first place, Daniel remembered rather sullenly. 

They went to get new glasses for Daniel. The optometrist, an elderly man with a pair of fancy looking gold wired glasses, eyed Daniel's fading bruises and pursed his lips. But he didn't say anything and Daniel was grateful for that. It was embarrassing enough as it was. He chose a frame similar to the one Bryan trashed. He was tempted to get a real expensive one since he knew Bryan would have to pay for the frame from his allowance. But in the end he didn't really like the expensive ones and stuck to what he was used to. 

On his chore list, Wednesday was labeled with 'Appointment Doctor Svenson' and 'dinner'. Daniel had the secret hope that meant they were off the hook from icky chores at least for today. 

However, when Mrs. Miller arrived with Al and Bryan in tow they were told to find a simple but nice dinner recipe and make a grocery list. Jack let them use Daniel's laptop for this quest. Bryan immediately wanted to go to his Facebook page and yahoo to check his e-mails, but their time frame was limited and they had to do it in the dining room while the adults were waiting in the living room. No straying to surf the net for fun stuff. 

“This sucks,” Bryan hissed. “Your dad and my mom are in the living room. We could just go there for a moment so I can check my mails.”

“If we get caught we get extra days,” Daniel muttered. “And who knows when I'll get my laptop back then.” He didn't miss his laptop that much; he still had net access from work and Jack would give him the laptop if he needed to finish work related projects in the evenings. But he still wasn't keen on letting Bryan surf the net and getting caught. 

“We won't get caught,” Bryan argued.

“Keep it down,” Al whispered.

Daniel opened his file with recipes he had collected over the years. “Let's pick something,” he said. 

“I don't cook. Especially not for her,” Bryan muttered as soon as they were brooding over a list of what Daniel had labeled 'all American food'.

“Meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans?” Daniel suggested.

“No green beans,” Bryan grumbled.

“I hate meatloaf,” Al whined.

“Fine. Chicken?”

“With what?” Al asked.

“Mashed potatoes and carrots?” Daniel suggested.

“What is it with the veggie stuff?” Bryan said disgusted

“I like chicken.” Al shrugged.

“We won't have time to make a whole chicken. So chicken breast will do,” Daniel said, already writing the grocery list.

“No veggies,” Bryan said.

“Yes, veggies,” Daniel replied irritated. “You know Svenson. She likes veggies. She's all for healthy food.”

“She drinks this yucky herbal tea.” Bryan shuddered.

“Why don't we just make Mac and cheese?” Al asked. “We can make a salad if she wants healthy stuff.”

Daniel was about to protest when Bryan suddenly said, “I like that. Mac and cheese and salad. Sounds good.”

Al's eyes grew big. “Really?”

“Yeah. Don't get all excited, though, loser.”

“No name calling,” Daniel whispered urgently with a meaningful look towards the hallway. 

“Fine. Sorry. What about it now?” Bryan looked back over his shoulder, too, but the adults weren't in sight.

Daniel sighed. “Mac and cheese it is.” 

Mrs. Miller took them shopping. While the boys went by their list and quickly covered everything they needed, she did the headless chicken run and kept mumbling to herself as she hastily threw things into her cart, then unpacked some of them and replaced them with others.

“She's always like this,” Al shared with Daniel. “She keeps forgetting to write a list and then mixes up what she wanted. Or she changes her mind about dinner at the store and then ends up having half the stuff for chicken and half the stuff for something else.”

“In her mind she's still at work,” Bryan said. “She can't stop thinking about whatever rat experiment they're doing at the moment. Mom can write down the most complicated bio formula or any weird physical chain reaction without making a mistake. But she's pretty useless when it comes to… normal stuff.”

“She's too smart for this world. That's what dad says,” Al said. 

Mrs. Miller dropped them off at home and hurried to store her own groceries away and run some important errands. She would be back for the appointment with Svenson.

The cooking didn't turn out that bad.

Al got to watch the water for the pasta and when it boiled he put the Macaroni in. Bryan took over the sauce. It said to melt butter and whisk three tablespoons of flour in it Bryan only burnt the butter and flour once. When he tried again, he accidentally dropped half the bag of flour into the pot and they all ended up with white hair, faces and clothes. Daniel rescued the sauce and stirred while he instructed Bryan what to add. Once they had managed to put everything into the casserole dish and shoved it into the oven, Daniel gave direction for the salad. 

Al knew how to wash and cut lettuce and iceberg salad. He also knew how to cut onions without bawling his eyes out. “I have to do this all the time at home when we have to prep dinner. Mom loves her salads. Yuck.”

Bryan's sliced tomatoes looked more like squashed tomatoes, but his mozzarella balls were pretty good. “We should spit into it and watch when she eats it,” he said.

“Eeeewwww,” Al groused, but started giggling anyway.

Bryan picked up the Cheyenne pepper. “Or we could make it real spicy for her.”

“Stop it,” Daniel groaned.

“Are you always this well-behaved?” Bryan asked, disgusted.

“No, he's not.” Al started slapping on his pants to get the flour off them. “When we were at that cave he went to explore on his own and ended up falling into some ditch. His dad had to rescue him and then we were stuck in the cave until people from NORAD came and got us out.”

Bryan started laughing. “Get out. That's a lie!”

“It's not,” Daniel muttered. “Jack works at Cheyenne Mountain and we called them for help because when we reached the cave exit it was already closed up for the night.”

“And I bet you cried like babies having to sit in a dark cave,” Bryan said with a sneer.

“We didn't,” Daniel said, not willing to admit that they had been a bit upset. And in a lot of pain in his case. He just hoped Al wouldn't share how Jack had told them the silly Wizard of the Winds story. But Al just smirked and carried the bowl of salad into the dining room.

They set the table and then looked at the flour covered kitchen.

“He's going to be mad if we won't clean up, huh?” Bryan asked.

“His name is Colonel O'Neill,” Al sniped.

“I don't care if he's a colonel or a general or the king of Mars,” Bryan sniped back.

“You're right though,” Daniel said. “We better clean it up.”

They used the small kitchen Hoover to get rid of the flour, wiped the counters with a damp cloth and were just done in time when the doorbell rang and the mac and cheese was ready. 

Jack and the Doc praised their cooking skills and dug in with gusto. Al was almost literally glowing with happiness at the commendation. Bryan pretended as though he couldn't care less, but his ears turned slightly pink. Daniel knew he could cook, but he was glad they had made it through another day without a major crisis. 

So far.

Once Mrs. Miller had returned Doctor Svenson wanted to talk to Bryan and Al first about the last three days and Daniel went to do dishes. As he scrubbed out the casserole dish, Jack joined him and started putting everything into the dishwasher.

“You can't help. It's against the rules,” Daniel pointed out.

“Are you being snarky?” Jack raised his left eyebrow and pointed a finger at the calendar on the fridge next to the dreaded chore list. “I'm sure I can come up with enough work for you guys to entertain you a while longer.”

Daniel sighed. “You're welcome to help anytime.”

Jack snorted and continued with the dishes. “How's it going?” he asked after a moment.

Daniel shrugged. “As good as it can be expected.” 

“That's good, right?”

Daniel finished scrubbing the fat crust from the casserole before he finally admitted. “I guess.”

“Seems the three of you get along better today than on Monday.”

“Maybe,” Daniel muttered. “It's not like we have much choice. Since you'll add days of more enslavement if we start going at each others' throats.”

“It was Jackson's idea. You can blame him.”

“It seems to be working, sort of. At least they actually talk to each or now. Like normal people. Sometimes.” 

“See? Progress.”

“The two weeks are far from over yet,” Daniel said, thinking he'd never experienced time going by so slowly. 

“You're the one who kept insisting you had to help. You're the one who'd been yakking my ear off about how you had to try and do something about Al's problems. Here you have it,” Jack reminded him, not unkindly.

“Yeah yeah. And I'll never wander off again.”

Jack sighed. “I wish I could believe that, kiddo.”

Daniel carefully put the casserole dish into the dishwasher, then turned to give Jack an anxious look. “Are you... taking my bike away for good?” It had been bugging him. Jack hadn't said anything about a time frame, yet. 

They locked eyes for a moment. “No,” Jack said, “but for a while.”

“How long?” He knew he shouldn't push it, but couldn't help doing so.

“We'll see.”

Daniel wanted to remind Jack that he had hardly ever crossed the line before. That he'd been on time, never left the neighborhood, never got into trouble before when he'd been out with his bike. He had tried really hard to go by the rules and not give in to any temptations.

Now he'd screwed up just this once and it had gone so awfully wrong. Of course there was that cave incident and he knew Jack hadn't forgotten about that either. 

Daniel kept his mouth shut and started wiping the counters. 

  
  


Thursday was dedicated to washing, waxing and cleaning out Jack's truck. Jack watched them with hawk like eyes to make sure they didn't damage his beloved Ford 250 in any way. He told them exactly what to do and how to do it and to Daniel's surprise it was Bryan who seemed to be a natural in the proper handling and care taking of the precious O'Neill vehicle. 

Maybe he just liked cars, trucks, whatever.

Bryan still didn't speak more than it was absolutely necessary with Jack, but he was soon the one doing the best job with the washing, polishing and waxing stuff while Daniel and Al retreated to do the inside cleaning. They wiped the dashboard and steering wheel, vacuumed the seats and floor, tried to get all the dog hair out of Flyboy's car blanket before it could go into laundry. They cleaned out the glove compartment and scrubbed the car mats.

Jack let Bryan take a look under the hood. Daniel, who was taking a break with Al, watched as Bryan was trying hard not to show his interest in anything Jack had to say. But he started to clean and oil the engine as Jack instructed him. 

“Bryan loves cars,” Al confirmed Daniel's earlier guess. “He loves all the guy stuff. Cars, football, motorcycles.”

“Isn't there anything you both like?” Daniel asked.

Al shrugged. “Movies. And computer games, I guess.”

“Do you ever play together?” 

“We used to. Until Bryan started hanging out with Mitch all the time. Then it got worse with... you know.” Al pulled a face when Jack called them back to work. 

Daniel stored this bit of information away for later usage.

**VI**

On Friday, it was Big Daniel taking over the metaphorical whip of the slave driver. Jack dropped the three boys off around five pm. He made a big show of being relieved to have them off his hands for a change. Said he'd go home and hang out on the couch with the dog and watch TV. 

However, Daniel knew Jack was out on another mission this afternoon. 

He looked at the kids, who seemed to recover well from their fight. The visible bruises had turned into different shades of green and yellow, but were definitely fading. 

“We're having a bit of a problem here. My jeep doesn't need washing and my backyard doesn't need leave raking that much. I don't have a shed either.”

Al said, “It said on our list we have to do teamwork on something today.”

“Team play,” LD corrected. “I tried to pry it out of Jack, but he wouldn't budge.”

Bryan said nothing and looked bored.

“Your mom suggested this. She said the two of you used to like doing jigsaws together,” Daniel addressed the oldest of the boys.

Bryan rolled his eyes. “When we were babies.”

“Well, this one isn't for babies. Your mother dropped it off this morning,” Daniel said with a smile as he led the kids into his living room. He had made space for it on the dining table by the French doors. 

Bryan groaned, but Al and little Daniel actually rushed forward to take a closer look at the box. “It's a 3D Camelot,” LD said. “Wow, over 600 pieces.” He whistled. “Is there a deadline?”

“I won't set one now. If you work together and don't get into any major arguments you should be able to finish it before dinner. Let's see how that goes before we establish a time frame,” Daniel offered.

“I don't do jigsaws,” Bryan said. “That's for geeks and little kids.” He gave the box an annoyed push, but LD caught it before it could fall off the table. 

“Bryan isn't good at doing jigsaws. When we were little I had to do all the work.” Al shared with a grin. “He couldn't find the right pieces.”

Bryan spun around and gave his brother a hard push. “Shut up, you nerdy little freak!” 

“Leave me alone,” Al yelled.

“Everyone can do a stupid jigsaw,” Bryan yelled back. “I just hate doing them.” 

“It doesn't matter who's good at it and who isn't,” LD said wearily. “Remember, we're in this together?” He went to sit at the table and study the box.

Daniel had hung back deliberately to see how this would turn out. Al joined him, but Bryan started to look around the room as though he was trying to find a way out. 

LD said in a low voice, “I think you should apologize, Al.”

“Me? Why me? He pushed me.”

“Because you had to share with us all he's not good at jigsaws.” 

“Well, but he isn't,” Al said with a scowl.

“You know what it's like to be singled out.” LD said quietly and Daniel had to bite back a grin at the patronizing tone. He sounded like a preschool teacher. LD caught his eye, blushed and shrugged. 

“I won't do the jigsaw,” Bryan insisted. “And I don't care if he's sorry or not.” He sat on the couch, crossed his arms over his chest and looked pinched. There were two red spots on his cheeks. “I didn't make fun of you because you can't even wash a truck properly.”

LD started to unpack the puzzle pieces. “No one's gonna make fun of you. No one's taking notes about who did what on this puzzle. As long as you help, we're good. If you don't help, we'll get another extra day.” He glanced at Daniel again.

Daniel followed a spur of the moment idea and said, “Too late. Remember the no mocking rule? It goes both ways, Al. I'm afraid I have to press charges.”

Al opened his mouth and gaped at him, his face slowly turning pink. “But...”

“Here's the deal,” Daniel said. “You get one more extra day now. You apologize to each other, Bryan helps with the Jigsaw and we leave it at that. If you insist I add another day for Bryan pushing you, I can do that. It would only be fair.”

Al shook his head. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't tell me,” Daniel said. “I'm not the one you need to apologize to.”

He spared the boys the humiliation to wait and see if they'd go through with it. He'd know soon enough. He retreated into his kitchen to make coffee, listening to the faint mumbling of voices coming from the living room. When he peered in on the kids five minutes later on his way to his office, Bryan had joined the other two at the table. He still had his arms tightly crossed, but he was at least watching now as Al and LD spread out the pieces. 

An hour later Daniel took a break from his paperwork and checked on the boys again. He had to smile at the sight. The walls were starting to take shape. Al was working on one of the towers and Bryan was stacking the finished wall pieces together while LD worked on a roof. 

Daniel decided it was time for cookies when his doorbell rang. Thinking that Jack was back a bit early from his trip, he opened – and was confronted with Fergus glowering at him. 

“Fergus,” he said in greeting.

“Aye.” The Scot, dressed in a black biker jacket and faded blue jeans, held out a hand, palm up. “Thought I return yer key.”

“Err, right.” Daniel stepped aside. “Let's have coffee?”

Fergus hesitated, then shrugged and brushed past him. Daniel closed the door and followed him to the kitchen. He started to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Fergus placed the key on the table and opened his jacket before he sat down. 

“How are ye?”

“I'm fine.” Daniel put mugs, cream and sugar on the table and leaned against the fridge. “You?”

“Could nae be better,” Fergus grumbled, his impressive mustache twitching as he grimaced.

“When do you leave?”

“Can nae get rid o' me soon enough, can ye?”

“That's not why I asked,” Daniel said patiently. 

“Well, I quit the job, me sister keeps the house and me car. Need tae find accommodation until I can look fer a new place when I'm there. And get the stuff I wanna take with me ready tae move.” His brown-green eyes softened. “Yer still invited tae come along, ye know.”

“Fergus, I can't,” Daniel said, the feel of loss all of sudden bitingly sharp. It was a good feeling, though. It meant he really felt something for the man sitting before him. There had been a surprisingly easy acceptance of his renewed single status over the last week and he had wondered if Fergus had really meant so little to him. But now, seeing him here and knowing he would be gone from his life so soon, Daniel knew he'd miss him. And he was sorry it was over.

They could have had something good. Not undying love, but a comfortable solid relationship. Something normal.

Maybe Daniel just wasn't made for 'normal'. 

“I know,” Fergus growled. “I just wish ye wouldn't beat around the bush about it. Ye ever considered telling him how ye feel?”

Daniel almost laughed at that. “It's not about him.”

“Yer lyin'. Tae yerself even more than tae me.”

“No. Look... it's complicated. I just can't leave,” he said as he opened a cupboard, retrieved the key he had of Fergus' place and gave it to him before he poured them both coffee. 

He could offer to follow later. Could give Fergus, if not a promise, hope. But he had no idea how that battle against Anubis would turn out. It was pointless to make commitments like that.

“Can nae be the job at the office keepin' ye here,” Fergus scoffed.

Before Daniel could reply to that, the door opened and LD traipsed in. “Daniel, can we have something to drink, please?” He spotted Fergus and smiled a bit awkwardly. “Hey, Fergus.”

“There's orange juice in the fridge.” Then Daniel remembered he'd wanted to give the kids cookies and started to fill a bowl with oatmeal ones. 

LD opened the fridge and got the orange juice, then went for glasses. 

“Hi, laddie. How yer doin'?” Fergus asked.

“I'm fine. How are you?” 

Daniel realized the two of them hadn't seen each other since the birthday party. He had hoped his relationship with Fergus wouldn't be an issue for LD. Now that problem had solved itself. 

Fergus grinned. “All right. How's that mean dog o' yers?”

“Flyboy is fine, too,” LD said and eyed the cookies. “Oh, wow. Does Jack know you're feeding us cookies?”

Daniel shrugged. “My house, my rules. And they're oatmeal, so not your favorite anyway.” 

“I didn't have any dessert or chocolate or coffee...” LD moaned and sniffed in the direction of Daniel's full mug. “Coffee... I didn't have any coffee for a whole week.”

“How is the jigsaw coming along?” 

“Oh! Once Bryan and Al stop bickering at each other long enough to get something done it's really going well. We have all the walls and three of the towers. And most of the roofs. We need to work on two more towers and the details. Bryan really has trouble finding the right pieces. He keeps getting mad, but we'll deal.”

“No more insults or fights?” Daniel asked. 

“No. And they both apologized. Very grumpily, but they did.” LD looked a bit worn out. “I'm glad for the break tomorrow and Sunday. I didn't think we'd all survive this week, but we did.”

Daniel picked up his mug and held it out to the kid. “You look like you need one.”

He hesitated. “Jack said I'm not getting any as long as I'm grounded. No privileges.”

Fergus snorted. “Yer ole man giving ye a hard time, lad? What'd ye do? Fall in a pond again?”

“No,” LD answered absently, eying the offered coffee longingly. 

“Yer military guy needs tae chill a bit. He's way tae wound up if ye ask me,” Fergus muttered. 

LD bit his lip and turned away from the coffee, giving Fergus a frown. “It's between him and me. I'll live.” He took the cookie bowl. “Thanks, Daniel.” With that he left.

“What's goin' on?” 

“It's a long story.” 

“Aye. Whatever it is I'm sure he's bein' tae hard on the lad. He's a great kid,” Fergus muttered. 

“He is,” Daniel agreed, “but even the greatest kids get into trouble from time to time.” 

Realizing LD had to leave the juice on the counter in order to take the cookie bowl, he carried the drinks into the living room where Bryan was setting the roofs on the buildings and towers. 

“Doctor Jackson, look!” Al whooped. “We'll be done soon! I wish I could make my fortress project like this!”

“Looks great,” Daniel said with a grin. 

“What fortress?” Bryan asked.

“I have to build one for school. With sticks and clay and stuff,” Al explained. “Colonel O'Neill promised to help me.”

Bryan scowled. “Why? You too stupid to do it alone?”

“I'm not too stupid. But it's difficult. It has no pattern like the jigsaw. Only blueprints; I have to craft it free hand,” Al defended himself.

“It's easier to do without stupid patterns,” Bryan said with a shrug. “I could do it.” 

“Is not.”

“Is too. His dad shouldn't help you anyway.”

“But he offered. Stay out of it,” Al said, his face glowing with anger.

LD handed Bryan another tower roof he just finished. “Hey, Al. Bryan could help you. He just said it himself, it's easy and he's good at it.”

Bryan laughed. “Why would I do that, huh?”

“I don't know, but you don't want Jack to help him so I thought you'd have a better idea then.”

Bryan shrugged. “Yeah, I could do it. Why not.”

Al started laughing. “Yeeeaaahhh, youuu. You never help with anything. You just break my stuff.”

“He doesn't have to help you. He's not your dad,” Bryan said. 

“You're not my dad either,” Al fired back. 

“I'm your brother... whatever... I can do it just as good.”

“Prove it!”

“It's no big deal to build a fortress.”

Al looked doubtful. “You'll just stomp on it or something.”

“We don't need your geeky friend's dad to build a stupid fort. We'll do it on the weekend. But if you ever breathe a word about it to Mitch, you're dead,” Bryan huffed.

Al just sat there, gaping. Then he nodded. “Ah, oh, thanks. I think.”

Daniel and LD exchanged a poignant look.

Fergus had emptied his coffee when Daniel returned to the kitchen. “I better go. Seems yer having yer hands full with a gaggle o' lads.”

“They're working on something. They won't bother us,” Daniel said, but caught himself at being relieved about Fergus' departure. “What about your things?”

There was a razor and a toothbrush in Daniel's bathroom. A couple of shirts and pants in his closet. Some books, some DVDs. A six pack of Skull Splitter in the fridge. It seemed Daniel always had beer for someone else in his house. 

“I'll... I'll pick 'em up later,” The Scot looked a bit sheepish when he added. “I still hoped... and if ye really did nae wanna come with me I hoped we could have one last... fae ole' time's sake.” 

Daniel caught himself wanting that one last goodbye sex, too. For a moment he was tempted to offer Fergus to come back later tonight. But the moment passed and he didn't say anything.

Fergus rose from his chair and zipped up his jacket. “I'll get goin' then.”

“I'm sorry,” Daniel said. When it came down to it he wasn't the one leaving. He wasn't the one with a need to start over elsewhere. Yet, he understood the need. Sometimes you had to take the plunge and get on with life, not looking back. 

“I need tae do this,” Fergus said, his voice almost a whisper.

“I know.” _But it's your path, not mine._

“Dammit, why can't ye be mad at me? It's much harder this way,” Fergus snapped, suddenly irritated. “Why do ye have tae be so calm? Could at least pretend yer mad.”

“Would it make you feel better if I'd throw a fit and make a scene? Because then you could be righteously mad at me for not understanding and supporting your needs?” Daniel gave him a one shoulder shrug. “Sorry. I'm not happy. And I'd rather you stay. But that's not what you want. So, you have to go.”

“Jus' like that?”

“Yes.” He tried to elaborate a bit more when he noticed the hurt in Fergus' eyes. “It wouldn't help if I asked you to stay. You wouldn't. And even if you did, you'd sooner or later blame me for keeping you from going. That's not what I want.”

“And ye goin' tae be okay?” Now there was worry. Guilt, maybe. Daniel didn't want that either. 

“Yeah. I will be. And so will you.” 

“Tell him,” Fergus said urgently. “Sweet Bridget, Daniel, a barmpot can see ye have feelings fer him. On yer birthday partee I saw how ye looked at him. I did nae think it was tae bad then. But whenever ye even talk about him, even when yer mad at him, it's there. And him? He's been tryin' tae kill me at sight whenever we met.” 

“You didn't meet him much,” Daniel said flatly. “He thought you were a burglar when he tried to.. err... almost shot... when he found you at my place that one time. He didn't know you were feeding my fish.”

“Yeh, and he wanted tae kill me jus' because ye'd given me yer key. He was spittin' mad, he was,” Fergus snorted.

Daniel shook his head. He didn't know what Fergus had seen on the birthday party or when he'd ever talked about Jack later... well, maybe he had. Occasionally. Here and there. But he had never been... emotional? Wistful? He frowned. “It's complicated.”

“DADT?”

“No. That's not it.”

“Then what?”

He tried not to give in to his sudden irritation. He didn't want to lay out his weird relationship with Jack for Fergus. It was too personal, too difficult. “I think you better go now,” he said stiffly. 

“Aye. Guess yer right.” Fergus left the kitchen and opened the front door. Then he let out a Gallic curse and took a step backwards.

Daniel groaned inwardly. Just what he needed. Not.

Jack's eyes shot daggers at Daniel's lover... ex-lover... “What's he doing here?” He grabbed Flyboy's collar and pulled him close.

“Leaving,” Fergus snarled. 

Jack stepped aside, indicating a small bow. “Don't let the door hit ya.”

“Ye bloody barmpot,” the Scot bellowed as he vanished in the dark and foggy evening. 

“Hey! Póg mo thóin!” Jack hollered after him.

“Are you done now?” Daniel asked snidely. “I hope he won't come back to really kiss your ass.”

“He can try.” Jack slammed the door shut. 

“Aren't you supposed to be role model to the kids in there? It'd be a little embarrassing if they caught you and my ex yelling insults at each – or worse.”

Jack scowled. “He started it.”

“I can't believe you just said that.” But he had to turn away from Jack to hide his grin. Sometimes Jack was just as bad as those kids. 

“I won't have to make nice with him now that you've split up, right?”

“When did you ever make nice with him?”

“What did he want?” Jack looked him up and down. “You okay?”

“Yes, Jack, I'm fine. He brought back his key.”

“Ah. Good. Where are the brats? Everything went okay?”

“They're still at it. In the living room.”

They retreated into the kitchen once Jack had said “Hi” to the boys. Daniel poured him coffee and joined him at the table. He informed Jack about the afternoon's events and finished his report with, “I think you should give LD a break. At least let him have some coffee.”

“Coffee, eh? He tried to wheedle some out of you?” 

“No. Actually I was ready to give him some, but he refused.”

Jack raised his scarred eyebrow. “Go figure.”

“He's a constant buffer between the Miller kids. He's working real hard to maintain the peace there. And you've drilled the boys all week.”

“I know. And it was your idea,” Jack said with a smirk. “Though they got a lot of work done. And did a good job, too.” He sobered and frowned. “I found the dog.”

“Great. Where is he?” 

“He's still at the pet shelter. They're having a hard time finding someone. It's a big dog. And not that young anymore.”

“And aggressive,” Daniel guessed. 

“Actually, they said he's pretty much calmed down.” Jack sipped his coffee and after a pause he continued, “I talked to them. They have no objections. If Mitch's godmother is going to adopt him, they'll give him to her.”

“Good. That way you won't have to adopt him,” Daniel grinned.

Jack snorted. “Or you. Since this whole thing...”

“...was my idea, yes, I know.” 

“I wouldn't have adopted that dog,” Jack informed him. “No way. No how. I already have a dog. And I'm still not sure how that happened… isn't he your dog?” He patted Flyboy's head. “We don't need another dog, right?”

Flyboy snuffled in agreement, then came to Daniel and nudged his knee to remind him that dogs needed welcome-treats. 

“He decided to adopt LD,” Daniel said. He went to fulfill his duty as a good host and fed Flyboy two dog biscuits. “He should keep him when he's big again.”

“Are you sure?” 

“If he wants to and can arrange a dog sitter for when he's off world.”

They didn't talk often about the time after LD's re-sizing. There was too much that could happen between now and then. Daniel didn't have a clue where to go if all went well and he preferred not to make any plans just yet. Yet, from time to time he caught himself thinking about things. Like where Flyboy would go and what he'd do with his house... 

He was relieved when Jack changed the subject. “So, who's gonna feed your fish now?”

Daniel looked at his key on the table and gave it a gentle push in Jack's direction. “You'll water my plants and get the mail?”

Jack picked up the key with two fingers. “Anything else? Want me to dust off your artifacts? Clean the windows?”

“Actually...”

“Don't push it.” The key was slipped into Jack's leather jacket. “So, what's for dinner?” 

**VII**

Sunday morning greeted Jack with golden sunlight once the fog had lifted. He and the dog were in the kitchen fixing pancakes. Flyboy's part was to sit patiently next to Jack and observe as he flipped them. Jack never let the dog have any of the batter, but as the saying went; hope springs eternal. 

“Daniel might share one of his pancakes with you,” he said as he looked at the dog. “Stop drooling on the floor.”

Flyboy opened his muzzle even wider. It gave him a grinning expression. Jack grinned back and gently nudged the dog's butt with his foot. “Go, wake him. He's slept in long enough.”

Realizing his hope of licking batter out of the bowl was crushed yet again, the dog loped off, but not without giving Jack a look of disdain. 

He was just done with the last pancake when Daniel strolled in, sniffing approvingly. “Pancakes,” he said with a note of surprise, and after he took a look at the table, “Blueberry pancakes!”

Flyboy was back on his post, this time sitting patiently next to Daniel's chair. 

Jack placed a mug in front of Daniel and couldn't help but feel a little bad at the way the kid's eyes lit up at the simple treat. Daniel wrapped both hands around the mug, raised it to his face and sucked in the scent of Sumatra Manderling through his nose as though it was the most wonderful thing he'd ever smelled.

He looked at Jack across the table. “But... why?”

“Good conduct treat,” Jack said. “And it's Sunday.”

“You let me sleep in, too.”

“We're still going to find something for you to do around here today,” Jack informed him, trying to sound gruff. 

The blond head turned to look at the fridge and he sighed. “It says 'cleaning' on the list. I cleaned yesterday. Okay, you helped, which I appreciate very much. What more is there to clean? I did my room, the bathroom, the living room, swept floors. You did your bedroom and the kitchen.” His face fell. “You want me to clean the basement? It's the only part of the house that's not been cleaned.”

“No, not the basement. You can do laundry today.”

“Laundry?” Daniel asked, his eyebrows dancing upwards. “Just laundry? That's all?”

“Why? You like doing chores that much?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But since I'm not supposed to have much fun, it's better than doing nothing.” There was no resentfulness in Daniel's voice, just a statement of facts. 

Jack suppressed a sigh. He knew he'd been pretty hard on the kid this last week. He almost wished Daniel would try to fight him. Being this cooperative made it difficult to drag him through another week and two days of his sentence. So, even before Jackson had nagged at him on Friday he had decided to give the Wretch a break. It was well earned, after all. 

“I thought we'd take the dog and drive up to the mountains for a walk. The weather is nice and fresh air is good for you.”

“Just you and me and Flyboy?” 

“Just us. Unless you want to call Al...?”

“No!” He bit his lip and blushed. “I mean... Al is my friend, but...”

“Been a bit too much togetherness?”

“Yeah.” Daniel started digging in with the pancakes and savored his coffee. Poor Flyboy had to wait a long time before Daniel remembered to share with him. He had spent the week eating mostly healthy stuff, except for the MacDonald's treat on their first day. Jack had gone the full nine yards about removing privileges this time.

He'd back down on that next week if things continued to go smoothly.

Patting his belly, Daniel finally shoved his plate away. “Thank you,” he said. “That was great.” He frowned. “Are Al and Bryan getting a break, too? It wouldn't be fair if they didn't.”

“I guess that depends on how they behaved yesterday without you as their peacemaker.”

Daniel blushed. “I'm trying. I'm not sure it's enough, though. It's a forced cease fire. At least on Bryan's part. I think Al likes things the way they're going. All I'm doing is trying to prevent them from getting us in even deeper.”

“Give it time. I didn't think it'd work at all.” He'd been pretty sure this experiment would end in a huge disaster with Daniel stuck in the middle. But Jackson had somehow talked him into this and it turned out to be not such a lost cause. 

“Bryan wants to help Al with his fortress,” Daniel went on and at Jack's disbelieving look, he grinned. “I think he can't stand the thought you were going to do it. So he offered.”

“He doesn't like me much, eh?” 

“Maybe he just hates it that Al likes you so much. You know, I think Bryan had really started to change – and then their dad left and he was mad at Al again. And Mitch had a grudge against me anyway. I... I think Mitch talked Bryan into cornering us or something. I'm not sure. Al said Bryan was getting really nasty once he'd started being friends with Mitch. Maybe if they don't see each other anymore it'll help.”

Jack started clearing the table. “Well, Doctor Freud, why don't you bundle up into warm clothes while I take over your KP duty.”

“I can help,” Daniel offered. He carried his plate and the bowl of blueberries to the counter “I'm used to full time KP duty now. It could be even worse. You could have made me do all the dishes by hand.”

“Damn,” Jack said, slapping his forehead. “Why didn't I think of that?”

“Don't, uh, get any ideas now, okay?” 

Jack gave him a quick hair ruffle. “C'mon, get ready. I'll finish here.”

Daniel nodded, smiled, and hurried out as though he feared Jack might change his mind about the dishes.

  
  


Two hours later they were strolling down a rolling hill somewhere in the woods around Pike's Peak. A thick foliage of brilliant colors was covering the path. The sky was a patchwork of blue with white clouds drifting across it. A nice and welcomed change to the gray and foggy of the previous days. 

They had fun watching Flyboy who kept sticking his nose into every rabbit hole and seemed to investigate every pile of leaves they came across. They had chosen a trail where dogs were allowed to be free, so Flyboy could run and have a blast without being confined to the leash.

Jack enjoyed the peace, the crisp air and the smell of wood and leaves.

He also enjoyed the dog's happy barks as they played chase. Daniel was subdued, though. He threw sticks for the dog and played with him, but he didn't appear to be as relaxed and carefree as he usually was on these walks. Again, Jack wondered if he'd overdone it a bit with the consequences of Daniel's transgression. 

And forcing the responsibility of keeping Al and Bryan in line on him was adding to it. What if they failed after all? Sure, he had given Daniel a choice. But had he really expected him not to take this challenge and try? Screw Jackson and his ideas... and why had he agreed to it again? Jack shook his head. He should have said no.

At least it seemed to be working, somehow. 

Around noon they found a picnic area under an impressive oak tree and decided to take a break. They were well equipped with a thermos of hot chocolate, sandwiches and dog treats. Flyboy explored the oak's roots, nose glued to the ground. He must have startled a mouse or something because they heard a loud irritated squeaking. Flyboy jumped backwards and started barking like crazy until Daniel called him to make sure nothing had bitten his nose. Turned out the mouse hadn't taken a chunk out of it. 

“That's what you get for sticking your nose into everything,” he scolded gently.

“That's the pot calling the kettle black,” Jack snorted.

Daniel let go of the dog and bit his lip. “I know.”

“I know you do.” Jack reached out and squeezed his neck gently. 

They had been through the long and agonizing version of this talk the day after the fight. There was no need to start it all over again. Daniel had taken a calculated risk to make his friend happy, well aware of the consequences if they were caught, but also well aware that there had been a slim chance of anyone finding out about their little straying. As things often went, it had backfired in an ugly way.

Maybe Jack would have let it go and decide the bruises Daniel carried from his encounter with Mitch and Bryan were punishment enough. But he had done that after the cave incident, which had basically started out with just a small line crossing, too – and apparently the lesson had to be taught with more drastic consequences, again. The last time Jack had seriously disciplined him was when he'd created havoc in some toy store, got lost at the mall and then ran away from Jackson the day after – only to fall into Fergus' pond. 

He knew he would never completely break Daniel's habit of wandering off or trying to make up his own rules if he felt he had to. It would probably always be an issue between them. Always had been. But as long as Daniel was little Jack was at least going to try and keep him safe by making him accept his boundaries whether he liked them or not. 

However, he also had to take in account that Daniel was much better in playing by the rules these days. And he knew that if the Miller kids weren't part of this whole mess, he'd probably lift most of the restrictions tomorrow. 

He searched in his jacket until he found a small red object. “I thought you might want to have it back.”

“My knife,” Daniel said, but didn't make any move to take it. 

“I found it when we got your bikes.” He had meant to give it back to Daniel the next day, but had forgotten about it.

The kid finally took it and gazed at it for a moment. “It keeps getting me into trouble.”

“Yeah,” Jack teased. “It's really all the knife's fault. We should lock it away for a while until it learns to keep you out of trouble.”

“Har har, you're so funny,” Daniel grumbled. “I wouldn't have wandered off if I didn't lose my knife in the cave. And...” He seemed to give himself a mental push because suddenly he straightened and turned intense blue eyes on Jack. “I need to tell you something. Please, try not to get mad?”

“I'll try,” he offered carefully. “No promises though.”

“I lost my knife during that fight and Mitch tried to stab me with it.” 

“What?!”

“He didn't do it. He just tried to.“

“He did WHAT?!”

“Jack, you said you wouldn't...“

Jack tried not to gnash his teeth. “I said no promises. You didn't think you should have mentioned this?” 

“It wouldn't have changed anything. It happened. Or rather, it didn't.” The blue eyes before him darkened. “You'll never know what's going to happen in a combat situation, you have to expect the worst. You and Teal'c taught me that. It was my own fault. I lost the knife. If something would have happened to Al...”

“Daniel...” Jack took one of those calming deep breaths that were supposed to help with his temper. Mitch wasn't here. He couldn't do anything about this now. Daniel was right – it had happened. And again it came down to the fact they had gotten lucky that day. It wasn't much of a weapon under normal circumstances anyway, but could still do some serious damage if not handled properly.

“We should have gone back to that comic shop. I should have called you right there. I was so blinded by my arrogance, all I could think of was how they'd harass us from now on. How they'd think I'm a coward.” 

“That's enough,” Jack said much harsher than he intended to. “You screwed up all right. We've been through this, it happened and we're dealing with it. But you were right about one thing - once you were forced to fight them you had no choice. Losing the knife was bad, but there's nothing you can do about that now. Get over it.” He closed Daniel's fingers around the knife with his hand. “Make sure you won't lose it again.”

Daniel hesitated, then slipped it into the chest pocket of his jacket. 

“Teal'c said the same... he said I fought an honorable fight while Mitch didn't. He said making mistakes could cost me my head in the field, but no one is free of making them.” He blushed and added, “I had to tell him - he pried everything out of me. You know how he gets – with just looking at you silently and doing the eyebrow thing? You're pretty good at the eyebrow thing, but Teal'c must have a degree in it or something. I made him promise not to tell you so you won't go ballistic all over again. He said I'd tell you anyway sooner or later.”

For the benefit of the very small part of his hair that hadn't turned gray yet Jack almost wished Daniel had spared him this piece of information. “We need to make sure that kid won't cross paths with you again,” he said grimly. “Svenson might be right when she says he needs help and all that, but you can't deny the fact that Mitch fella is dangerous.” 

“I don't want to see him again either,” Daniel said gloomily. “Because if he ever gets me into a situation like that again it might end really... bad. I don't want that. For his sake as much as mine. When he attacked me with my knife I could have broken his wrist. I knew how. When he had me in his clutches before... I could have broken his jaw. I was in control of what I was doing enough not to do either. But... he didn't back off. He didn't give up even though he was in pain. I was afraid I'd have to really, really hurt him, to make him stop.” 

Jack let the words sink in, realizing the truth in them. Realizing that, despite losing that stupid knife and every other bad choice Daniel had made that day... and despite the fact that Mitch might be aggressive and dangerous... If it had come to the worst Daniel would have won that fight. He should have known. He'd seen Daniel in training. Somehow the bruises on the young face and small body had made Jack forget … no, maybe not forget, but underestimate Daniel's strength.

“You were holding back.”

“Oh, he got me quite good. He's big. But yeah... he's no Goa'uld, Jack, he's just a snotty teen. I don't want to be forced to put him into the hospital just because he doesn't know when to quit. I was so angry at these goons whenever Al talked about what they did to him. Back in the summer I almost wished they'd corner us and I think part of me was waiting for it all these months. And then... when it finally happened it was like a relief at first. But none of it was worth the risk of one of us getting seriously hurt.” 

“You know what? That's probably the most mature thing I've heard from you in a while,” Jack said. 

“I'm gonna take that as a compliment,” Daniel said, doubt in his voice.

“It was meant as one.”

“It still felt good to punch Bryan's nose for being such a jerk to Al,” Daniel admitted.

Jack thought about Fergus and how he had wanted to break the friggin' Scot's nose more than once over the last few months. “Sometimes it does.”

“But that's not me. Giving in to it... that's more your way of doing things.”

“Right... What? Hey, watch it! I don't even get to shoot at things much anymore. And I'm not getting into any fistfights, as opposed to my usually anti-violence civilian consultant.”

“You're probably rubbing off on me. After all I'm an O'Neill now – if only by name,” Daniel said with a cheeky little smile.

Jack sobered and started packing the thermos and empty sandwich bags into their backpack. “Maybe it's one of those experiences you had to have at least once. Kicking the bullies' ass.”

“I did that when I was big. Bullies are bullies even when they're alien bullies.”

“Yeah, but maybe you had to do it while you're a kid. Might be you needed that bit of revenge, too. For yourself, not for Al.”

“Like when I blew up that Goa'uld larva tank,” Daniel murmured. “I... needed to do that. I hated it later, but I had to. It doesn't make it okay, but...”

“Believe me, buddy, blowing up a Goa'uld larva tank is always okay in my book,” Jack said dryly. 

He felt a wave of relief wash over him. This was it. This was his Daniel, his way of thinking... his way of putting things into the right perspective. It had taken him a while longer to process – but he'd gotten there in the end. 

And most importantly Daniel was talking to him again, openly. He'd been cooperative and good all week, but he'd also been too subdued, too closed up into himself. 

“Jack?” Daniel tugged at the sleeve of his jacket.

“What? Anything else you didn't tell me?” Jack groused.

He shook his head. “I think it's going to happen soon.” 

_Yeah,_ Jack thought, _that's what I think_. “Any new developments we should know about?”

“No. Nothing concrete. Just...”

“Still being a bit twitchy?”

“Yeah. Like a bad foreshadowing of something. Like...”

“Like the air seems to be electrified before a thunderstorm?”

Daniel chewed his bottom lip, looking thoughtful. “Yeah. Like that! It feels like it makes my hair rise and it makes me feel all... icky.”

Jack raised an amused eyebrow. “Icky? I think you're spending too much time around Al.” 

“Fine, it makes me feel restless and is very disconcerting.”

Jack put his hands on Daniel's shoulders. “You said working out helps. But if it gets worse... if anything else happens...”

“You'll be the first one to know.”

“Good.” He shouldered the backpack. “Time to go home. The laundry awaits.”

Daniel sighed. “Hi ho, hi ho, off to work I go.”

“That's my boy.” Jack knuckled his head playfully. 

“Ow! Stop it!” But the grin widened and when Flyboy started bolting ahead they followed suit and walked back to the truck in comfortable silence.

***

Daniel had put away the last bit of the laundry and went into the kitchen to start on dinner. He had peeled the potatoes earlier and only had to turn the stove on to boil them. That done, he was just getting the green beans from the freezer when Jack came in and leaned against the counter. “What are we having tonight?”

“Green beans, sausages and potatoes,” Daniel said as he filled a pot with water and put a generous amount of beans into it. It was his luck that he didn't mind vegetables at all. He missed having dessert though, and snacks. The unhealthy kind, like chocolate and cookies. Daniel missed watching TV, too. He didn't mind not being allowed to use his own TV, but he missed watching with Jack. Not because of the TV, but because of the hanging out together. 

Since he was going to bed at 8:30 sharp, his evenings had become very short and boring. Not that he was able to stay awake much longer anyway with all the extra work he was doing.

“I'm going to lift the dessert and coffee restriction tomorrow, and we can negotiate on your bed time in a day or two,” Jack informed him. “You still have to go through the rest of your time with Al and Bryan. And you're still all grounded.”

“Okay. But... what about them? We're in it together. It's not okay for me to get most of my privileges back while they won't.”

“Always that strong code of honor.” Jack smiled, then continued, “Their mom is going to gradually give them back some of theirs, too. It seems they did okay this weekend. They managed to build that fort for Al together. That's pretty good progress if you ask me.”

“You talked to her?”

“Nope. Svenson did. She just called. She's impressed, by the way. Said you're doing a great job. And I agree.”

Daniel jumped when the beans started to boil over. He quickly grabbed his oven mitts, removed the lid of the pot and turned the stove down. He checked on the potatoes which were boiling as well. 

He turned back to Jack, who pulled something from the pocket of his jeans. “And there's this.” He held up a small silver key.

Daniel felt his mouth fall open. It was the key to his bike. Jack had locked it up and kept the key and Daniel hadn't expected to get it back anytime soon. “But...”

“I'm giving this back to you now, but you'll have to wait until Al is allowed to ride his bike again, which will probably be once your grounding is over.”

“I... really?”

“Yep. There's a condition though.” Jack glowered at him.

“Which one? Name it, I'll do it.” He felt giddy all of a sudden. He'd get his bike back next week. It meant he hadn't screwed up as badly as he thought. Bad enough, but not _that_ bad. Not where it counted the most. 

“I want a hug. A real one. And then I need a couple of ideas on how to make your life miserable next week. I'm running out of hideous things for you brats to do.”

Daniel threw away his oven mitts and surged forward to give Jack the hug of all hugs. His mind was forming all kind of stupid vows like; _I won't wander off again, I won't EVER wander off again, I'll never make you worry again, I promise..._ But he didn't say any of it, knowing he might not be able to keep them indefinitely. He just squeezed Jack's middle like his life depended on it and hoped he could keep all these silent promises at least for a while. 

Jack gently pulled him over to the table, sat down on a chair and wrapped his arms around Daniel. Like this they stayed for a long while... until the beans were boiling over again and it was time to cook the sausages. 

**Epilogue**

They stood boot to boot, glaring at each other. The tension in the hall was palpable.

Bryan straightened his shoulders. “You lost.”

“And? So?” Jack looked at him down his nose. “Your point being?”

“You let us win,” Bryan said darkly. 

“Says who?”

“Me.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself. He was pretty much dotted in purple paint hits. “You got Murray and Jackson on your team. We didn't let you win.”

Bryan didn't look convinced. “You're Special Ops and all that. How could you not win?” He pointed at Carter. “She's Special Ops too. Al told me. And he,” a finger was waved at Shanahan, “is a cop.”

“And he,” Jack said dryly, nodding at Teal'c, “has more field experience than all of us together. Jackson there,” he smirked, “is a hell of a lot better than Indy even without a whip.”

“You let us win,” Bryan insisted.

“And why would I do that, eh?”

“They lost because they had me on their team and I'm a total failure in this,” Bryan's mom said, the grin and excited red spots on her petite face showing that she didn't care about being a failure at all. She had been crappy, but enthusiastic. Bad, very bad – but apparently having a blast. “I haven't had that much fun in ages,” she said.

Shanahan put his arm around Carter and grinned. “You kids put up a good fight.”

Al giggled. “I didn't. I was mostly hiding - like mom.”

“Practice,” Pete said. “You'll get the hang of it yet.”

Al shrugged. “First I want to learn to be brave.” He blushed. 

Daniel elbowed him. “You're brave enough. You just have to believe it.”

Mrs. Miller shook out her hair and giggled like a high-on-sugar teenager. “This was great! Absolutely great! We should do this again.”

Oy. Jack would make sure she was on the other team then. 

Bryan stared at his mother. “You got hit everywhere, mom,” he chided. “You'd be dead.”

“Yet, I never felt so alive in a long time,” she replied.

Bryan and Al exchanged a look that clearly stated they thought their mom was more weird than usual. Then Bryan turned back to Jack and glowered. “So, you lost. And you didn't let us win.”

“Well, you didn't exactly wipe the floor with us, brat, but, yeah, we lost,” Jack growled.

Daniel, the mini version, smirked at him from where he stood next to Bryan. Al grinned triumphantly. Teal'c looked stoic and Jackson smug. 

Carter plucked at her paint stained vest. “You only won by three hits,” she scowled.

“But we did win,” LD pointed out. 

“Rub it in, why don'tcha?” Jack poked him with the barrel of his secured and plugged gun.

“Hey! No fooling around with the guns,” Jackson said. He was sporting lots of green paint dots on his pants and jacket and his hair was ruffled. Jack felt a sudden urge to smooth it down, to brush his hand through it and... He forced his eyes back to Bryan who looked still doubtful. 

Jack rolled his eyes. “What?”

“The deal was; we win and won't have to do the extra days,” Bryan said. 

“That's right.”

“And,” Al piped up, “ice cream for everyone.”

“Ice cream?” Carter frowned. “Did we offer ice cream, sir?”

“I did,” Mrs. Miller said. “At John and Josh's Ice Cream.”

The kids whooped and high fived each other. Teal'c bowed his head. “A wise choice, LouiseMiller.” He turned smartly and left to get rid of his gear, followed by the boys.

“Ice cream for Murray alone is gonna cost you an arm and a leg,” Jack said.

She just laughed. “I'll live. Oh, by the way... I meant to tell you earlier, Colonel, but forgot about it. Marilyn got Buster from the shelter. Mitch is allowed to go out with him as long as he keeps him leashed – and as long as he stays out of trouble. I don't know if it's the best solution for this, but he's now spending a lot of time at her house and she lives in another part of the city. I hope Bryan will keep his distance from him and that there won't be any more incidents.” 

Jack wasn't sure this was the best solution either, but it was better than no solution. Again, he hoped Svenson would help the Millers to get things back on track. He and Daniel had done all they could... it was up to them to make it work from here.

“Thank you, Colonel,” she said quietly. 

“It's Daniel you'd have to thank. Both of them, I guess,” he said awkwardly. 

She nodded, smiled and went to follow the boys.

Carter grinned. “This was fun, sir.”

“Yeah, you guys do that often?” Shanahan patted his Spyder Victor. They had chosen the more basic guns which were easy to handle even for the kids. 

“We could,” Carter said. “It makes for good extra weapon training.” She gave Pete a wide smile. “Not that you need it, Sargent Shanahan.” 

“Oh, hey, neither do you, Major Carter,” he laughed. “Never thought you'd need to be this good with a hand gun for space telemetry work.”

“Ah, but you never know when the little green aliens might knock on our door. Better be prepared,” Carter said airily.

Shanahan raised his eyebrows. “I know we are in good hands if you're protecting the planet, Sam.” He looked at his watch. “Come on, let's get out of here and have ice cream.” 

Jack had to give it to him; he seemed to be just fine about the whole classified thing. At least on the outside. He gave Carter a covert glance. She caught his eye and smiled, then went after Shanahan. “See you later, sir,” she said over her shoulder as they walked off together.

“Nice,” Jack drawled. He happened to like Carter's cop friend. Not only was he good at the grill, he was also good with the gun. And it didn't hurt that he seemed to get Carter to relax and have fun. Something Jack had often felt compelled to make an order. 

“Seems to work out for them,” Jackson said without the slightest trace of bitterness. 

“Yeah. Good for them.” Jack picked up his mask from the bench next to him. 

“You think he bought it? That you didn't let us win?” Jackson asked as they trudged to the exit of the battlefield.

“Hey, we didn't make it easy for you,” Jack muttered. 

“No, you didn't. But you didn't exactly give it all either. Teal'c wasn't happy with your performance. Or Sam's. I think he would have preferred a more... aggressive fight.”

“And endure those kids another two days? I don't think so,” Jack grumbled. He was more than ready to release them into freedom. They had earned it, too. So he had told Carter and Shanahan they'd fight to lose – in a very subtle and not 'glaring-in-your-face' way. But lose they would. And they did. With dignity and barely. 

“That's what I told Teal'c. I think he had mercy on you. He didn't say anything in front of the boys. Though I'm pretty sure Daniel wasn't fooled.”

“No, but Daniel won't breathe a word about it,” Jack said. Daniel wanted his bike back and he wanted to work his full hours again. He wanted his Nintendo and his laptop. But most of all he probably wanted to spend hours and hours in his room, reading. Undisturbed by chores or the Miller kids who were – if not mortal enemies anymore – still bickering a lot.

And Jack wanted that, too. He wanted peace and quiet and even though his shed was cleaned out, his truck shiny and polished, and the tidied up 'junk and treasure room' in the basement sported now a training mat and the punching bag Jack had wanted to install for over a year... even though the boys had been working together remarkably well this last week... He wanted his house and his spare time for himself again. He wanted his kid for himself again for a change. 

God knew for how much longer he'd have him like this. They needed to make at least some more good memories before it was over. He glanced at Jackson as they reached the doors to the changing rooms. 

“You think Daniel is up for some pumpkin fun?” 

Jackson's eyebrow did that crinkle thing as he thought about it. “Like what? And isn't Halloween over?”

“Yeah, but you can still carve pumpkins. I was thinking about a team night. Hey, you ever carved a pumpkin?” 

“Uh, nope.” 

“We used to do that with Charlie. You'll like it.” 

“Oh-kaay.” He didn't sound convinced and his eyebrows crinkled even more.

Jack slapped his back. “Trust me. You're both gonna like it.” 

Then they entered the changing rooms and were greeted by impatient calls to hurry. It was ice cream time. 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> Series continues with "Still Jack and Daniel - Full Circle" which is the final series in this universe


End file.
